When Elphaba awoke, the next day, she was utterly horrified.

--

Chapter Nine:

She locked herself in her room and would not even speak to Garivon when he called her name through the door. For nine days she did not eat and the only thing that passed through her lips was the whiskey that Garivon had left for her. Her wound was terribly sore to the touch and she could not stand to even look at it. She kept it shoved in her pocket and tried to force the horrible truth out of her mind.

The crash startled Garivon and nearly made him drop the box he was trying to get from the top shelf. He rushed down the stairs and called Elphaba's name through the door but, like always, she did not respond. But this time was different. This time he did not hear her rustling about like normal. He did not hear her pacing around her room as had become habit of hers. He heard nothing, and that frightened him.

He might be old but he was not, in anyway, weak. He took a few steps back, lowered his shoulder, and charged the door. It burst open as he struck it and he stumbled through, nearly stepping on Elphaba's crumpled body, and kneeled down by her side. He felt for a pulse at her neck and – to his relief – found one. It was weak and sputtering but it was there, which gave him great relief. He placed his hand on the side of her face and called her name. No response. He sighed and scooped her up in his arms, brought her up to his own room in the upper floor where it was warmer. He set her down on his bed, which was far softer, and pulled the sheets over her. He grabbed a chair from the kitchen and set it beside the bed where he sat down. He held her only remaining hand in reassurance and waited.

It took almost forty minutes before she began to wake up. Garivon stood up at the first sign of her waking and when her eyes finally fluttered opened she was met with his concerned face looking down at her. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like shit."

He smiled sadly at her. "So I would imagine."

She closed her eyes briefly to still her spinning vision. "What happened?"

"I believe you fainted."

"Fainted?" she asked in surprise as she opened his eyes to look at him questioningly.

"Yes. That is what happens when someone refuses to eat for an extended period of time."

"I wasn't refusing to eat," she snapped out, trying to protect her fragile self-esteem with biting words.

"Whether you meant to eat or not is not the point. The point is you weren't."

"Does it matter?"

He sighed and sat down in his chair, keeping his hand protectively around Elphaba's remaining left hand. "You're going to starve to death if you don't eat so yes, it does matter."

She turned her head to look at the opposite wall. "I stole an apple," she muttered. "And he… he cut off my hand for it."

Garivon was shocked. "You steal?" he asked. "Do I not give you enough payment to survive?"

"You do," she replied as she slowly shifted her position so that she was sitting up; her back resting against the wall behind her. "I just… spend it on frivolous things. And stealing is not new to me. I've done it since a fled from the Wizard twenty-one – or is it twenty-two now? – years ago."

"Frivolous things?"

"I spent it on a newspaper with a story about Fiyero and Glinda and their oh-so-perfect lives together!" she spat out. "Useless stuff! Half of it probably isn't even true!"

"Calm down." Garivon squeezed her hand, tried to get her to relax, but she refused.

"Calm down!" she shrieked as she turned to look at him then, her eyes flashing. She thrust her right arm, her wounded arm, towards him. "How can you tell me to calm down when I have lost my hand!" She was beside herself. "I am more of a freak than I have ever been!"

"Fae –"

"I cannot even play piano for you anymore! I am useless! Just like always! And you will cast me out because I cannot do my job and I will have to make the choice between being a whore again or simply turning myself in!"

Garivon looked horrified at Elphaba's outburst. "I'm not going to throw you out," he said. "I care too much for you to leave you like that."

Her face fell at his words and the carefully constructed mask she had created so many years ago finally shattered completely. Garivon saw the pain and despair in her eyes as plainly as he could see her green skin. And he saw her desperate desire to be loved, to feel needed and accepted.

"You never had a father, did you?" he questioned in a mere whispered.

She kept her eyes locked on his as she shook her head, unable to form any words around the lump in her throat.

"You've been hurt deeply, haven't you? Scarred by men multiple times over, haven't you?"

She nodded again, finding it nearly impossible to hold her tears back.

"Betrayed by friends and left behind, alone, to fend for yourself, right?"

She closed her eyes, focused on take deep breaths to prevent her tears from escaping her control, and nodded once again.

"I'm not going to leave you," he said. "But I'm sure you've heard that before, even had such a thing promised to you, and been betrayed. I don't know how I can make you trust me but know this. I am old Fae, and my days are running out. I cannot promise to be beside you for the rest of your life because I will not live that long. But I can assure you that as long as you feel the need to stay under my roof you are welcomed to. And as long as you find comfort in my presence I will be here for you. But do not leave because you feel you are a burden to me because you are not." He squeezed her hand tighter and she opened her eyes to stare at him.

He was crying; silent tears that slowly traced paths down his wrinkled face.

"You told me I was like a father to you," he continued, his voice suddenly choked with emotion. "Well I must confess that you have grown on me and you, if I may be so bold as to say, feel like a daughter to me."

She smiled at him and the utter useless that had settled inside of her since the cruel shopkeeper had cut her hand off seemed to lessen slightly – replaced by gratitude and thankfulness and a love for this old man who had become the father she had always needed and had spent her whole life desperately searching for.

She reached for him, enveloped him in a tight embrace. He was shocked at first by how willingly the green woman had touched him but he soon returned the hug. She buried her head in his boney shoulder. "If you need help with anything, anything at all," she choked out, "and I can do it I will help without a single question. Just ask and I will be there, I promise."

They stayed like that for awhile, finding comforting in each other's touch. For Garivon it was a chance to redeem himself – to help someone when he had been unable to help his own family. For Elphaba it was a chance to heal – to find comfort in the parental love she had never had before. It was different then the love she had shared with Fiyero because this wasn't on stolen time like her affair with the Vinkus prince had been. This wasn't a secret she was afraid to speak of incase it should shatter as soon as it was acknowledged.

This was how her childhood should have been.