Author's Note: I disclaim.
There will only be about three chapters after this one so we are very near the end! I've loved writing this and I've especially loved hearing from you guys! Hope you enjoy the final chapters!
The walk from her flat to her work always made Elphaba smile. It was a nice part of town, and not a place she had expected to live since she had arrived in the city with so little. It took her almost twenty minutes from leaving her front door to entering the building. The company she worked for was young – very young – and seemed to think they had struck gold with her. Elphaba took a different view of it but she was grateful to be valued by them, especially because many of them were the sharpest minds she had ever met.
It was named simply after the work it performed – research into the causes and effect of Meningitis. She hated the disease and everything about it. It made her feel short of breath to remember what had happened, and she did not dwell on it.
She crossed the last road that stood between her and her work. The sun hit her face, the warmth of it blinding her for a moment. She blinked in the light, the welcome sign greeting her with all the importance of a well-funded research and medical science facility. As with most commercial buildings in the Emerald City, it was green, but it retained the quaint features which made it identifiable as belonging to the Old Town district of the city. Of course, most of the 'old' buildings had now been renovated, but it was a well-loved area, allowing both citizens and tourists to revel in their history.
Elphaba loved the interior of the workspace. The walls were made of thick, cold stone, which were a welcome relief from the heat of the Ozian sun. Her own office was bright but private and three walls were lined with fit-to-bursting bookshelves, only the fourth left free for the wide sash window. One bookcase could be opened to reveal a not-so-secret route to both patient rooms and conference areas.
"Good morning Miss!" The young and constantly happy clerk chirruped as Elphaba walked past and pressed the lever for the elevator. She smiled at the young woman as the doors were closed by the porter.
As she exited on the fifth floor and walked purposefully along the corridor to her office, she passed the staff members who made up her rather distance circle of 'friends'. Half of them were Animals, and University or College graduates. The facility, her boss had told her, made a point of hiring Animals. Though initially she had been invited out by her colleagues night after night, eventually it became clear that drinking was not an activity she should partake of in her near future, and they grew comfortable being kept at arm's length by Elphaba.
"Miss! Miss Thropp!" Called one of her assistants. Elphaba stopped in her tracks and greeted the student. "Morning, I compiled the list of patients we've managed to contact so far and put them in your office. We've also received a strong list of new addresses since you spoke to that difficult Gillikin doctor."
"He was difficult for a reason, Sammo." She told him. "That doctor had been stupidly led to believe he could find cured for all of his patients for years without any luck. He just didn't want to get involved in another good-for-nothing ploy."
Sammo shrugged. "Yeah well he should've realised who he was talking to." HE said, nudging Elphaba.
She laughed a little. "Oh he did. Eventually."
"Anyway, we're working on sending a team out to make sure we've gotten everything properly. In the meantime I think you have a few appointments today."
"Please tell me no more press." She begged.
"No more. I told Mrs Ermine. No more press. Just patients I think." He said sadly, knowing they would have read 'cure' in the papers and assumed the best. It was Elphaba's job to disenchant them. Partly because she had to earn her stripes, and because they refused to talk to anyone expect the magic girl.
"Oh, great." They reached her office, a room all the staff knew you did not enter without her permission. Sammo stopped at the threshold and wished her a good day. Elphaba knew that meant she probably would not see him again until tomorrow; he would be in the back with the records and files, earning his own stripes by helping to organise back catalogues. They were important, after all.
Elphaba shut her door and the noise of a busy staffroom out firmly. She took in a deep breath and crossed to the other side of the room where she ungraciously sat down.
In front of her sat an old, grainy, grey photograph of her sister and herself. It had been taken five years ago. They had been told to sit for an official family portrait, but this one was an outtake; a moment of shared laughter between the sisters that Elphaba had asked to be printed twice. She gave it to her sister that Lurlinemas as a present. She had taken it with her to the funeral, laying the other on the coffin as it was lowered into the ground. It had been the only personal item she had on her when her father had her removed.
She shook the memories fiercely from her mind. Before her were brown marked files, piled about a foot high for her to review. She sighed and cleared her throat. To her left sat her diary, which she opened to check when she had scheduled appointments with frighteningly hopeful wannabe patients.
They had come in droves since the newspaper, but more recently Elphaba had taken on a research case of a young girl to whom her and her team wanted to apply their scientific method. Elphaba had made several breakthroughs in mediocre medical magic – no more than unblocking a nose, healing small scratches and removing back pain. Her greatest and most wondrous act was when she began working on the badly blocked ears of this young girl. She had so much fluid trapped in her auditory tracts that she had lost the ability to hear very well. Doctors had been unable to remove the fluid with needles, and as a last ditch attempt, her parents appealed to Elphaba.
Reluctantly, and without much hope, she had begun to work on her. Muttering quietly a combination of spells designed to work on clearing infection and fluid and to isolate and identify the source of the problem, she spent three hours pressing and forcing her energies before she halted the exercise, too physically exhausted to do any more.
Furious with herself for not dismissing the idea at the first, Elphaba had apologised profusely and sent the family away. She had slept fitfully for twelve hours once she got home. She was exhausted. She knew she should never have agreed to spend so much of her magical energy on something she clearly did not understand and was unprepared for. As a result, she had refused to do any more consultations or performances. She was focused purely on understanding how to improve and refine her skills. At least that had been the plan, until the girl returned the day after with fully improved and normal hearing. Her boss had promised she would still be undisturbed by patients, but Elphaba had asked her whom she intended to use to keep them away. She could hardly blame them for wanting to find a cure for their loved ones. She would have done the same.
With one hand tapping the white paper of her diary and her eyes scanning the report from the girl's treatment, the other fell to her abdomen and ghosted the gentle swell there. She closed her eyes tightly, pressing her hand more firmly against the material of her blouse.
Fiyero.
What she would not give to speak to him again. It was her own fault; she had written to him thirteen times but each letter sat unposted in her drawer. No matter how much she felt for him, how much she missed him and how desperate she was just to see him, she was always left with the feeling that he might reject her. He was a prince, and she was a disowned ex-future Governor of a minor farming district. In truth, she had no right to expect anything other than silence from the Vinkus.
She jumped when a knock came to her door. She had been deep in thought for an hour – it was uncommon lately. She kept losing herself. Everything felt far too surreal.
"Who is it?" She asked, an invitation only for the knocker to identify themselves.
"It's Mrs Ermine, Elphaba."
"Come in."
The middle-aged, kindly woman slipped in and clicked shut the door. She sat in one of the wooden chairs in front of Elphaba's desk. "I'm worried about you."
"I'm fine."
"It's perfectly obvious to me that you most certainly are not." She said pointedly. Mrs Ermine had a husky and commanding voice and earned Elphaba's respect, if not her trust, far more than the sneaky and unsettling Madame Morrible – a woman who continued to try to get into contact with her. "I've had calls from the Wizard's administrators."
"So have I. I don't think they're going to be any trouble. They keep asking me how well the research is going. They're trying to be motivating and are simply succeeding in being irritating."
Mrs Ermine laughed. "True." She stretched in her seat, the old wood creaking underneath. "If anything they'll give us more money, which is something we can definitely use." Elphaba nodded and said nothing. "I will not let this go, Elphaba."
"I don't expect you to. Nor do I expect to convince you that I'm alright."
"Then why do you keep insisting that you are?"
"Because I am trying to keep from falling apart!" She hissed, slapping her hand on the desk and shifting in her chair in embarrassment at her outburst. Mrs Ermine bit her lip. "This work is the most important thing in my life."
"It should be important, but I think there are other things you should prioritise."
"That is none of your business."
"You're right, of course. But there are vindictive and manipulative people in this city and I know how lucky I was to find you, the vanished daughter of the grieving governor. The genius student of Sorcery squatting in a poorhouse. So," She rose and handed Elphaba some forms. "I will continue to act as your unofficial guardian whether you like it or not."
"What are these?"
"Forms for Maternity leave. You need to let me know how much time you want off and how much you are entitled to. Bear in mind a first child for a single parent can be the most challenging period. You might need more than you think." Mrs Ermine smiled, though Elphaba remained stony-faced. "And you have a patient waiting. Shall I ask them to come back?"
"No." She replied curtly.
Mrs Ermine nodded and left, with Elphaba sitting impotently in her chair, staring at the forms that forced her to confront the reality of the baby. She remembered that poorhouse, though not voluntarily. She had nowhere else to go. Her lif it was such a mess, and she did not know if her work was enough to keep her above the surface. She rubbed her eyes and kept them closed, feeling the immediate benefit of the darkness.
Another knock.
"Come in."
She heard the patient enter and the door shut. Sitting up, she fumbled about for the company's leaflet on their medical practice policy. "I don't want to disappoint you, but we are not in the habit of treating patients. What happened the other day to the little girl is unprecedented and we really can't move on until we understand what happened there. Do you –"
She looked up and saw Fiyero. Behind him, peeked the blonde head of Galinda.
I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that.
Instinctively, Elphaba made to sign, but her hands shook and would not move. She stretched her fingers and clutched at the silk of her skirt. She could not speak. Fiyero was half-smiling, but it did not make her feel glad. She darted her glance from him to Galinda and back again. Her blonde friend seemed to be more aware of Elphaba's unsteady state and was nodding calmly.
"It's alright Elphaba." Galinda reassured her, stepping around the small space to sit at Elphaba's knees. "It's ok." She said, taking her hands.
Fiyero stood in front of them, and watched Elphaba follow Galinda's gaze as though it were too painful to look at him. He saw Elphaba's hand lift to her mouth, covering it as she began to convulse into sobs, alarming him beyond belief.
Sweetheart. He signed, rushing to her side and cupping her face, now soaked with violent, fat and thick tears. They ran over her hand and onto his as he held her, shaking in his arms.
"Oh Oz, Fiyero." She said.
What are these? He signed, not expecting Elphaba to answer him. Galinda?
She took them into her hands. "Maternity Leave, Fiyero. You know, time off for the baby?"
Elphaba's hands flew to her stomach then, and she seemed to try to pull herself together, shoving them both away and telling them to sit on the chairs opposite her. Galinda shuffled out three handkerchiefs to her friend. Elphaba whipped them out and scrubbed at her face, sniffing and failing to calm herself down. They sat in silence, waiting for her.
"Elphaba? Is everything alright in there?" Mrs Ermine's voice came from the door. "Elphaba?"
Galinda frowned at her friend, who nodded. "Uh, come in." She said.
Mrs Ermine entered with trepidation, unsure of obeying the unfamiliar voice. She clocked the two guests and her sobbing employee. "What's going on here?" She demanded. "I'm sorry – I'm going to have to ask you two to leave. We do not perform medical treatments anymore." She demanded.
"No." Elphaba said, just as Mrs Ermine was ready to man-handle them off. "Leave them alone."
"Elphaba_"
"No!" She repeated. "They're my friends." She told her. "He's – he's the father."
Mrs Ermine looked at Fiyero, who had no clue why he was being singled out, but he smiled anyway. "Prince Fiyero Tiggular is the father of your child?" She asked, eyebrow raised.
"So surprising? I'm quite a catch you know." Elphaba said, making Galinda laugh. Fiyero nudged her and she began to explain what the joke was. "Galinda?" Elphaba asked, watching her friend converse in almost – but not quite – fluent sign language.
Fiyero turned to Elphaba and laughed. You haven't lost your sense of humour. He said.
Everyone was staring at her, but she only looked at Fiyero. Still, she found she could not reply. Signing – it just reminded her far too much of her sister. She shook her head in response and dropped her gaze.
Silently, Mrs Ermine left the room.
"Elphaba, we have to talk." Galinda told her. She leaned forward whispering, as though Fiyero had suddenly gained the ability to hear. "Why won't you speak with him?"
"I can't." She replied simply. "Galinda, I just can't do it. I don't even know how I get up in the morning. It's the little things, I guess." She lied, not really knowing what she was doing at all. Everything she had used to justify her new 'purpose' seemed irrelevant. Having them both in front of her made it seem like the delicate world she had rebuilt for herself was tumbling down. She felt very self-conscious of how she looked. She realised she had been crying.
"You're still in love with him." Galinda said, as though she were stating that the sun was in the sky.
"Yes. But-"
"I know. He's in love with you, too. He just wanted to know you were alright. He didn't know if you would want anything to do with him."
Elphaba's heart sank at that, and she reached into her drawer to hand Fiyero the pile of letters she had never sent out to him. Still, she said nothing, and even as he read them she could not look him in the eye.
"Galinda?" The blonde looked up from the letters she, too, had begun to read. "Would you – do you have somewhere to stay tonight?" She nodded. "You and Fiyero?"
"We were going to stay at my parent's flat. They use it when they come to the city. He wanted you to come with us."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"He's just looking out for you!" Galinda stressed.
"I know that, but I have my home and my – my things. I feel safe there." Galinda sighed. "I want a night alone with Fiyero." She said quietly, teasing out stray threads from her skirts. "Please."