Author's Note: I disclaim.

I really hope you're enjoying this storyline as much as I love writing it - judging by your reviews I would say so. We're nearing the end now though I suppose it doesn't much feel like it yet.

Writing this particular chapter made me feel so excited and I hope you do, too.

Enjoy!

A week passed before they could establish anything concrete. Galinda could not keep Frexspar on the phone anymore and eventually she gave up trying when the staff began to recognise her voice. Fiyero had spent a small fortune ordering the newspapers from the weeks following the day he left Munchkinland before he eventually found the one that had published the announcement of Nessarose's death.

He had not truly believed that it was true until he was faced with the fact of it in black ink. The possibility of it haunted him and he could not sleep until he knew. He thought establishing the truth would help cure his insomnia, but the death of Nessa was a blow far too close to home. Not only that, but he knew how crushing such a loss could be. There was no telling what Frex had done. There was simply so knowing where Elphaba had gone. Had he thrown her out? Or had Elphaba buried herself away?

He thought about his own lost siblings and his living sister, the one who would have loved Nessarose and who resembled her so fiercely. He wanted to go home. He wanted to make sure she was alright. He fought tears writing to her the day he read the obituary. He did not mention to her what they were doing, but simply took joy in the knowledge the she was safe.

He knew some judged his family for keeping the little bird cooped inside the walls of the palace, but it was moments like that which made him glad they did. He dreaded the day she would leave.

Galinda had no siblings, but she was pale from sadness for her friend, which Fiyero took a lot of comfort from. She was as driven as he to find her, to make sure she was alright, if nothing else. Neither of them figured she would want to return to university, but neither did they understand why she would have left home voluntarily.

The newspaper stated Nessarose had been buried next to her mother. Surely Elphaba would have wanted to be as close to them as possible? Fiyero was frightened for her. He knew she could protect herself, but grief such as the one she was experiencing was overwhelming.

Still, they could find no trace of her anywhere. For a green girl from a prominent family, she had covered her tracks remarkably. Fiyero had to admit his surprise that Elphaba had disappeared so well. Occasionally he would wonder why she had not come to them, but he knew Shiz would be the last place she would want to return to. Somewhere deep down, he knew she would be in the Emerald City. It was the place in Oz where she felt she would be least alone and yet least conspicuous. No one would be able to single out her greenness there, at least not as easily as in the rest of Oz.

Desperate for information but unable to leave Shiz, Fiyero and Galinda wrote to their friends and family all over Oz. Fiyero was at a loss as to the best possible people to contact and only thought of asking his parents. Galinda had far more savvy in that respect, however, and when they went to send off their mail her pile was almost three times as large as Fiyero's.

Colwen Grounds? Fiyero asked, able to be alone with her more now that she had markedly improved in her signing – though she was hardly fluent. A fast learner, however, which Fiyero admired. Why are you writing to Colwen Grounds?

"Those servants are far too smart for their own good. It was perfectly obvious to me that they disliked being forced to conceal what had happened to Elphaba. Short of speaking in code, they at least made it clear that they were worried about her."

Oh, you're writing to the servants? I thought you were writing to Frex!

Galinda laughed, depositing more letters into the vivid green mailbox. "Oh goodness! Of course I'm writing to him!"

What? He exclaimed, shocked at her daring.

Her innocent expression made him feel like an idiot. "It's worth a shot Fiyero. I just tried to express my condolences and to convey the idea that it might not be the best time to alienate his daughter. Don't worry I was very tactful."

Oh I'm sure you were. He raised his brow.

"What does that mean?" She asked, offended.

I've seen your tactfulness, Galinda. I wouldn't be surprised if he put a restraining order on you.

Galinda chose not to be insulted, mostly because she had only caught about half of the sense of what he said. Still, she laughed and it seemed to satisfy him. That night she spent four solid hours working on her signing, wondering what had happened to her academic career.

Galinda had to restrain Fiyero from phoning the police when they did not have an immediate response from their letters for the first four days. She reminded him that even those who were going to respond would have to first try and find the answers to their questions before writing them down. He was antsy and worried. The black shadows under his eyes told her he had not been sleeping and it broke her heart to see how much he missed Elphaba.

She wanted to tell him that they would find her. She desperately wished to make that promise to him, but it was not something she could be sure of. If there was anyone who could vanish without a trace, it was Elphaba.

Five days after they had sent off the mail, Galinda and Fiyero sat in the blonde's lounge waiting that morning's post in a silence which they filled with curt and pointless conversation. Fiyero had brought study material to work on that was left abandoned in the corner in his book bag. Galinda made no such attempt at filling her time. It was a Saturday and they had nowhere to go and nothing to do but wait.

Galinda was tapping a pencil absent-mindedly when they heard the shuffle and thump of mail landing on the floor. Fiyero was much faster than her and bolted to the door where only a newspaper had fallen.

He looked crestfallen at Galinda. "It's only the paper boy, Fiyero." She reassured him. "It's nine o'clock just. The proper mail won't arrive for a couple of hours." He nodded, having known this already since they had spent every morning waiting for the post in her room. Fiyero's post would arrive at eight and he would bring anything important to Crage Hall. So far, the important stuff had not been forthcoming. He hoped it was due to the fact that post from the Vinkus usually took four days to reach his parents in the first place.

He placed the crisp new paper in Galinda's outstretched hand and stood leaning on the back on the couch, too nervous to sit. The blonder spread the pages open before her and carefully began to read every single line. He began to pace, realising how long it would take for her to read anything important. A moment before he was about to divide the paper in two in an effort to aid the task, the second of the newspapers they had decided to scour for news of her arrived.

Fiyero set to reading it. It was from Shiz, and Galinda's from the Emerald City. He hardly expected to find much in the Shiz edition, but since it was a University newspaper, the journalism tended towards to new, the exciting, the dangerous and the disturbing. Anything in Oz likely to incite hatred, fear or sadness in its readers would be printed. They hoped to find some article which detailed the death of such a young girl. Both ignored the morbid paths which the situation had forced them to tread.

"Fiyero!" Galinda called excitedly, banging her fist on the table. She crumpled a sheet of paper and threw it at him when he did not respond. "Fiyero, come and see this!" She said. He went over to her keenly, pulling a chair to sit beside her.

What is it? He asked, skimming the page for 'Thropp'.

"This one, this article here." She pointed at it and began to read, more to set the words clearly in her mind as though sounding them out would allow her to discover if they spoke any truth. Honestly, her heart raced a little. "A young student from Shiz has recently been discovered to have exceptional talent in Sorcery and Medicine. The female, whose talents have attracted the General Medical Council and the Council of Thaumaturgy, is currently performing potentially ground-breaking research into the causes of Meningitis." Galinda paused, and she and Fiyero exchanged a knowing look. "The disease spread rapidly through Oz twenty years ago, killing thousands and leaving an equal number with disabilities. The GMC and CT awarded the fledging medical research company with a grant to fund their future work. The company has been in business for ten years, gathering intimate and detailed research on Meningitis, but told this journalist that the work of this new young woman was a turning-point for them. They are very optimistic for the future and hope that he knowledge of both medicine and magic will afford new possibilities for the community." Galinda finished, and looked to Fiyero.

It isn't much. He commented, touching the print as if Elphaba would have felt him.

"I know." Galinda acknowledged. "But it's more than we've had, and it could be her. The company is in the Emerald City, we know she has an unusually brilliant way with Sorcery and we know that she has been personally affected by Meningitis. In a way, it killed her sister."

A reckless driver killed her sister.

Galinda nodded sympathetically. "Yes, but perhaps she would not have been hit had she been able to hear the clatter of the wheels. Perhaps that small mercy would have saved her. Maybe that's what is killing Elphaba right now, and if she has been abandoned by her father, it would make sense if she tried to work on finding a way to help others who were in the same position as Nessarose."

Fiyero watched Galinda and smiled, satisfied by her logic. It's more than we could have hoped for I guess. Thanks, Galinda. At least now we have a lead to follow. We can contact the newspaper and ask about the company.

"We can contact the company even, assuming they'll give us the name."

Even if they refuse, there's enough information in the article for us to find it ourselves. A medical research company based in the Emerald City that has been open for ten years and has recently begun conducting experiments with magic: that narrows the field quite a bit I would say.

Galinda laughed and agreed with him, glad to see a smile on his face and his eyes brighten. She prayed that this lead was the right one. "It doesn't mention her skin." She noted.

Fiyero pursed his lips. No, but then it doesn't give either her name or the company's name either. It could be she's asked them not to. This Emerald City edition is a well-respected publisher and news house, they would be highly unlikely to want to offend a company doing potentially life-altering research by ignoring a simple request for privacy.

Galinda had to concede that he was right and turned to the back page for a telephone number.

What, you're phoning now?

"Of course, what's the point in waiting? They're open until lunchtime on Saturdays, and we have an hour to kill before the damn post arrives. Might as well try and get in contact with the journalist."

Fiyero waited patiently for some news, while Galinda navigated her way through the administration of the Emerald City newspaper that had, so fortunately for them, taken an interest in the small company who hired a green girl with no degree, no family and a tenuous grip on her own magic.

"Good morning, Dantis Morh'gullen speaking, how may I help ma'am?" The soft accent of the Emerald City sang in Galinda's ears and she responded in her most pleasing tone.

"Good morning Mr. Morh'gullen, my name is Miss Upland of the Upper Uplands."

"Well Miss Upland of the Upper Uplands, what can I do for you?" He asked, in a way that reminded her of her grandfather, and his playful teasing. If was indeed the man who had met with Elphaba, Galinda was glad of it; he seemed empathetic and kind.

"I am calling regarding a very recent article you wrote about a company performing medical and magical research on Meningitis. I was wondering if you could tell me anything more about the young scientist?" She asked innocently, though she was perfectly prepared to be honest.

The voice of the kind journalist, sighed and told her he would be happy to repeat the information his editor had cut. "The student, who wished to remain nameless and also asked we not print the name of the company, has an as yet untested gift with magic but the scientists she's working with are looking into the possibility that she may provide life-altering cures for the living sufferers of Meningitis."

Galinda started. "So she might cure it? That's a bold claim!"

The journalist laughed. "Indeed it is, but I have met this young woman. In fact I spent a day with her. I give you my word – for what it may be worth to you – that if there is any person in this land capable of creating some form of relief from the diseases, then it is this girl. She did stress the importance of not jumping to conclusions. The project is still very much in the early stages of development."

"But she's happy?"

The journalist hesitated. "She is happy to be working towards a cure, I could not say otherwise."

"May I ask what you mean?" She inquired eagerly, feeling as though she was speaking almost directly to her friend.

"She seemed determined in her work, but if I may say so, she seemed to exhibit a certain sadness, too. I could not tell you from whence this thought of mine came, except that it developed after having spent a day with her and her team."

"I see."

"The extent of her work is actually much larger than she cared to have me print, but I would not have liked to in any case. With a disease as devastating as this, I do not like to deal in sensationalism. I respect the young girl more than I would most people of her age and situation."

Galinda started. "Her situation?" She asked.

The journalist coughed, though Galinda detected no change in his voice. "I cannot betray her request for privacy."

"Was she green?"

"Sorry?"

"The girl, the young scientist, was she green?"

"Eh . . . I . . . sorry, who are you? Do you know this girl?" The journalist demanded of her, his tone shifting to one he must employ in important and newsworthy moments, she imagined.

"Please," Galinda begged, so close to Elphaba she could taste it. "Please, I'm her best friend. We just want to know if she's alright. Was she green? Did she have long black hair and sharp features? Did she speak with a refined Munchkinlander accent?"

"You're quite a journalist yourself." He said. "And I don't think you need me to answer those questions."

"No wait – please!" She yelled, but the line cut off and Galinda slammed the speaker down in anger. "He wouldn't confirm it because she's asked them not to give any details, but Fiyero I'm sure it's her. The way he spoke – there's just no doubt."

Suddenly, Fiyero seemed to deflate. It was as if his tension was air and it had been the only thing holding him upright. He sank into himself and laid his head in his hands. He took a few deep breaths and Galinda allowed him to sit undisturbed while she re-read the article.

We have a week off soon. I can go. I can go to the city and find her.

Galinda frowned. "I don't know about that Fiyero." She said.

Why the hell not?

Galinda sighed and sat down on the couch next to him. "We know it's her, don't we?" He nodded, unsure of her point. "Well, she asked the paper specifically not to reveal any sensitive information to anyone about either herself or the company. We can research it further from here if you'd like. I just think it's obvious that for now she wants to be left alone. She hasn't written to anyone, Fiyero, though she quite clearly has the means."

Fiyero stared at the blonde girl helplessly, before she realised that nothing she said would prevent him from running out to the city to find her. That just isn't good enough for me, Galinda. I have to see her. I can't – after everything that happened to her and with us – I can't leave her like he did. I just want to see her for myself. To talk to her.

Galinda nodded, though she thought Fiyero's eagerness might frighten the newly grief-stricken green girl. She watched him rise and gather his coat and bag. "Where are you going? Where are you going?" She demanded.

I told you. We've no classes next week.

"It's meant to be a study week, and since we've spent the best part of our time doing nothing but scouring newspapers I think it's time best spent in the library."

There are libraries in the Emerald City and I can study on the train. He insisted. He was out and the door closing behind him before she could get another word in. Even then she barely had time to register all that had happened before the slap of letters on the floor made her jump.

Less bothered now she had spoken to the journalist, she swept the magazines and leaflets from the ground and shuffled through them nonchalantly on the off chance she might find something.

And eventually, at the bottom of the pile, was a letter from her mother, written in hasty cursive.

Dearest Galinda,

I write this to you having just returned from the Emerald City myself. I know you said you thought your friend might have ensconced herself there and you were so very right my dear!

As an ambassador and campaigner for the General Medical Council you are of course aware I travel frequently to the city to review funding applications, etcetera. Well, there was one from a very small and almost insignificant company working in the city, known as Meningitis Research Oz, or MRO as the abbreviations go. It requested money based on the new work of this young and might I mention highly unqualified new scientist.

I will not bore you with details that are irrelevant, I will only tell you that I was sent to meet with this group and their new recruit. Let me tell you what an eye-opening day that was! Magic has been unruly and taboo for centuries in Oz, but this girl has an effortless control over it and she had barely even begun to harness the full extent of her abilities.

And yes, my dear, she is green, so I knew when I got your letter that I had done something important for you. I was concerned for this young girl as soon as I saw her, but I did establish that she has a flat and a good salary. At least you many rest on the point of her safety.

Off topic slightly, and I do not know if this is something you will find significant, but the young green girl I met with was in the early stages of pregnancy. A very slight swell in her abdomen was visible and her co-workers seemed to be as aware as I was since they were asking after her health and all.

If you do find get into contact with her I would be glad to know that she is alright.

Love,

Mother.

"Oh Fiyero." Galinda sighed. She stood for a moment before running after him.