AN: Thank you to all those who reviewed. I posted extra early, just for you guys.
"Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place." Zora Neale Hurston
An earsplitting wail crashed through the night as the knife connected.
"Elphaba!"
Fiyero raced toward the attacker before worse could be done. From nowhere, Tyrius appeared by his side, and together they disarmed the lithe figure. His brother pinned him as Fiyero rushed to her bed, desperation racing through his veins.
He prayed for a miracle. She couldn't be dead. She just couldn't be.
"Please, Fae. Please. Hold on." He flung back the sheets, and for a moment he only saw the blood. But the body was wrong. Shorter, curvier, and not green. Was he in the wrong room? "Sarima?"
"What?" The attacker wrenched free, and flung off the mask. "No, it can't be."
Fiyero stared wide-eyed at Six, shock making his already stuffy brain run too slow. "You? You stabbed her? Why?"
"No, I…I didn't." She blinked owlishly with a subconscious shake of her head. "It's your girlfriend's bed. It should be-"
Sarima let out a pathetic moan, and her sister scrambled forward.
"Oh, Lurline, what have I done?" She threw herself atop her sister's body as if she could undo it by sheer will. "Quick. You have to save her. Please."
"Right." He stumbled toward them. If only he could. Both hands hovered over her, but he couldn't think. What to do?
"What are you doing? Do something!" She turned back to her sister, brushing the girl's hair back. "Oh, Oz, why were you here? It was supposed to be her."
"Why was she here?" Fiyero shook his head, at a loss. Was this some elaborate dream? It made as little sense. "Where's Elphaba?"
"Is that all you care about?" Six snapped. "Your precious little harem girl? My sister is dying!"
He spun on Tyrius, fear lancing every word. "What happened to her? Where is she? Is she hurt?"
His brother stared unblinking at the figure on the bed, and Fiyero shook him when he didn't response. "I…" Tyrius started, blinking fast. "She's fine…she's…we tied her up. Sarima was going to seduce you. We thought…"
"You idiot!" Six whirled on him. "We tried that, and it didn't work! Why would you try it again?"
"I didn't know you were planning to kill her!"
Six spun back. "Oh, Lurline, don't let her die. Please, Fiyero."
A stab of fury raced through him that they would do this and then expect his help. "Let her go," he snarled at Tyrius. "And then send for a doctor. Now!"
Tyrius jerked out of his panic and raced for the closet. He pulled off Elphaba's gag and unknotted the ropes. "I…I didn't know…I…"
"Go!" She shoved him toward the door. "Are you daft?"
The blood covering Sarima turned Fiyero's stomach, but he edged her sister out of the way. At this rate, she wouldn't last long. He'd have to slow the bleeding. The sharp coppery tang stung his nose as he pushed the blanket firm against the wound. "Elphaba? You alright?"
She met him, nodding. "Is she-?"
"No. But I can't stop the blood." Her hands came on top his, assessing the girl for any other damage. He looked up at her, willing his relief at her safety to show in his face.
"This is all your fault," Six threw him a hateful glare, arms wrapped tightly around herself.
"Me?" he shot back with a glare. "I'm not the one stabbing people!"
But she had sunk to the floor, her face buried in her knees. "Why couldn't you be the same apathetic idiot as ever and just marry my sister? You're so proud of caring? Caring only screwed up everyone's lives."
"I doubt you want to say that while I'm caring to hold your sister together now."
She crumbled into a low keening.
Fiyero looked up at Elphaba. "What do you think?"
Her face was grim. "You're right about the blood. I don't know if she can hold on for the doctor."
"Is there-" He swallowed, hating himself for asking. "Is there anything you can do?"
"Me?" Her forehead wrinkled. Then she understood. She frowned. "I can't really control it. It just…happens."
He nodded, refocused on keeping Sarima's life from literally slipping through his fingers.
She took in his determined expression, and glanced at Six where she rocked on the floor, silently sobbing. With a steadying breath, she closed her eyes and began to chant. He didn't recognize the language, but he knew that intensity.
Sarima's body gave a wrench under his hands, and he fought to hold her still, afraid she'd lose blood at an even faster rate. Another spasm, then both arms and legs flung widely. Her eyes flew open. She sucked in a breath.
He thought she might speak, or scream, but instead she let out a soft shudder. Her head tipped back, shaking from side to side. She looked like a marionette in the hands of a madman. Until at last she fell still, unmoving.
Was she dead? She might be, for all she moved. Not even a breath disturbed her, and under his hands, he felt the slow ebb of blood stop.
Elphaba stared at him in shock at the violence, eyes wide. Then she dropped like a stone.
"Fae!"
He raced to her, and she shivered in his arms. "I'm alright." But she clearly wasn't. Her face looked so pale, he thought she might pass out, and she couldn't stand for trembling.
"Sit." He reached for the blanket, but it was soaked with blood. He wrapped her back in his arms. "Get me a blanket. Now!" he barked at Six, but the girl only sobbed. "Damn it, Six, go!"
She shuddered and rocked. Useless.
He pressed a kiss to Elphaba's forehead, praying he hadn't unintentionally signed her death warrant as well. She leaned into his shoulder. "Yero, I'll be okay. I obviously drew more than I meant to. But I'm just tired." She dodged his gaze. She was worse than she let on, and she knew that he knew. "Did it even matter? Is she dead?"
Six wailed at the word, starting a fresh round of tears. He should feel some sympathy for her, but he felt only frustration. Perhaps she should've considered the consequences before stabbing people.
Elphaba stumbled to her feet woodenly, and he bounded up next to her. With an arm wrapped tight around her waist, they crept to the bed.
Sarima lay there, still as the dead and just as cold, but then she drew a shallow breath. Elphaba let out a sigh. "It worked. She's alive."
Fiyero moved aside the bloody cloth. The skin was sticky and stained, but whole. Not even a scratch. He gazed up at Elphaba, awed by what she had done.
Tyrius skidded back into the room. "The doctor's on his way."
She nodded, the embodiment of weariness. Fiyero helped her sit. "Blanket."
The boy slipped out again, and reappeared in a moment. Fiyero wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.
"Is she…?"
"Alive. Whole."
Six's head popped up as Tyrius leaned back, eyebrows high. "How?"
"Elphaba saved her." Fiyero said simply. "She's training to be a sorceress."
"You…saved her? You can do that?"
"Apparently." Elphaba's joke fell flat at the weakness in her voice. She rested her head on Fiyero's shoulder.
"And you would? She's your enemy."
Her sigh fluttered against his neck, light and long. "She's a person, regardless of her choices. And the enmity was of her choosing, not mine."
"Still." Tyrius stared at her in puzzlement and a touch of fear.
"Can you handle this?" he asked his brother. "She's exhausted, and if you think I'm leaving her to sleep on her own again, you're delusional."
Tyrius winced at the hard look and nodded. He took Six's hands. "I've sent for Mgliore. He's on his way."
"Thank you." Then she looked up, distraught. "No! He can't know about this. He'll-"
"Hate you?" Fiyero growled at her. "Why shouldn't he? You tried to kill her. Kill her! What kind of person does that make you? And you're only contrite now because you didn't succeed!"
His eyes flashed as he moved to Tyrius, who rushed to say. "I didn't hurt her, I swear."
Elphaba sagged against him. "Yero, can we yell at everyone tomorrow? I'm a little too winded now."
He cast a fierce glare at them both, and scooped her into his arms. His brother could handle the doctors and clean up. It was partly his mess, after all.
Mgliore met them in the hall. "What's going on? Sarima's hurt?"
His eyes found the blood smeared on both of them, with her eyes shut and her body limp. He paled.
"Oz? Was Elphaba attacked as well? What the hell happened?"
Fiyero snorted. "No, though not for lack of trying. Your fiancé tried to murder her, and found Sarima instead."
"What?!"
"Because my idiot brother kidnapped her. Some plot to seduce me into marriage."
Mgliore's frown brought his forehead so low, it threatened to swallow his eyes altogether. "I don't understand."
"No wonder. It's nonsensical." Fiyero tipped his head back to calm down. "I've got to get her to bed. Fae healed her. To the point of exhaustion." Her head lolled against his neck as he shifted her weight. "And so help me Lurline, I will make each of them pay dearly if she has so much as a headache tomorrow."
"Let me help you." His friend held the door for him, and he edged through sideways. "Are you certain it was Six? She wouldn't-"
"My own eyes." Mgliore shook his head in denial. A silence fell between them. Fiyero studied the pillows. "I can't forgive this."
"Nor I, if it's true."
And the two shared a look of understanding. "I know you love her."
Mgliore took a deep breath. "How can I when I obviously don't even know her?" He scraped a hand through his hair. "Where are they?"
"Down the hall." When his friend reached the door, he asked, "Can I trust you to do what must be done?" A rush of shame came at the lack of trust, but he had to be certain.
"She won't escape. I swear it. Whatever she thought, her reasoning, I need to understand as much as you do."
Tyrius ducked his head in. "I thought I heard you. She's in here, fairly desperate to kill herself at the moment."
Fiyero felt a rush of hatred that he quickly stamped out. He swallowed his vitriol in a nod toward the door. "Mgliore, please stop her. Tonight hardly needs more violence."
His brother stepped in the doorway. "What shall I do next?"
"Call the guards, but keep them outside the room. She can be with her sister tonight at least. And post someone outside our room. I'd rather not have to kill anyone." Though he might, if it meant her safety, and that thought frightened him.
Tyrius nodded and rushed toward the stairs in the direction of the guardhouse. He wished he had the luxury of being ordered about.
Duty satisfied, Fiyero kicked the door closed and set Elphaba on his bed. She slept soundly, so exhausted she didn't even flinch at the shift in position. He moved only to lock the door, and then he fell into bed beside her.
The fear at having lost her crashed around him, and he clutched her close. Each of her breaths offered reassurance to him. In, and out. In, and out. Even so, he struggled not to weep, with worry, with relief, with gratitude, with fear.
He buried his face in her hair. He'd stay awake and guard her sleep since he was helpless to do more. Guilt swallowed him. He'd asked her. He'd placed her in harm's way, and look what they'd gotten for it.
He focused on the even rise of her chest. She was alive. She would be alright.
He wouldn't lose her. Oz, he couldn't.
