Without you, the ground thaws, the rain falls, the grass grows.
Without you, the seeds root, the flowers bloom, the children play.
The stars gleam, the poets dream, the eagles fly, without you.
The earth turns, the sun burns, but I die, without you.

Without you, the breeze warms, the girl smiles, the cloud moves.
Without you, the tides change, the boys run, the oceans crash.
The crowds roar, the days soar, the babies cry, without you.
The moon glows, the river flows, but I die, without you.

Without You, Rent

Chapter 14

Elphaba wandered the streets most of that day, worrying about Galinda's safety and hating herself for having left her alone. A part of her wanted to rush back and find her, to spill all of her secrets and ask for some sort of help through this predicament. But Elphaba knew that Galinda would be much safer back at Shiz, preparing for the semester and the return of their classmates. If Galinda knew what Elphaba planned to do, she would certainly disapprove. She would be terribly torn between her values and her friend. Elphaba simply could not do that to her.

No…it's better for her not to know. Hopefully, I can return in a few days and she'll never need to know…

Elphaba told herself the same things over and over, focusing on Galinda's well-being to fend off her own fear and uncertainty. By the end of the day, she was exhausted, hungry, and without any place to stay the night. She had had plenty of experience with begging for shelter as a child. Her father had been a nomadic missionary for many years, and he took charity when it was offered. However, in this great city, Elphaba had no idea where one might find charity. She was more than a little afraid that, in looking for a place to sleep, she might stumble upon someone waiting to prey on a young girl. She was smart, confident, and fierce as a snake sometimes, but Elphaba knew she was no match for a grown man. Not physically, at any rate.

So she wandered until she found a cluttered ally, where she spied the flicker of a fire. Shivering and aching with cold, she made her way towards it and hoped for the best. In the shadows, she found a handful of people gathered around the fire, which burned inside a metal can. Elphaba looked around, wondering if they could tell she was green beneath her heavy cloak.

No one spoke, but a bundled figure shifted a crate towards her and nodded that she sit down. Elphaba nodded her thanks and folded herself onto the make-shift seat. They were quiet for some time, warming themselves by the well-fed fire.

Finally, from across the ally, someone spoke, "You're a young one, to be wandering alone. Have a spat with your parents, eh?"

Elphaba was offended, though she couldn't pinpoint exactly why. When she answered, there was an edge to her voice, "I'm homeless, same as all of you, I assume."

"You're dressed mighty nicely to be homeless. Those are good boots, if a bit unladylike…"

Elphaba snorted, annoyed at the inspection, "I've left Shiz, and I've got no family nearby. So, good clothes or not, I've got nowhere to go."

The figure across the way, who turned out to be a man, spoke up again, "We're not here to judge, just to observe. You can share our fire, if you share your story. Our stories is all we've got, most times…"

Elphaba swallowed, not really wanting to share her secrets with these strangers. But then, she rationalized, they were strangers. Perhaps they could point her in the direction of someone who could get rid of her problem.

Taking a breath, she offered, "I left Shiz because…I hope to…take care of a problem I have. I can't return until it's…gone."

The woman sitting next to Elphaba turned and examined her, raking her unusually blue eyes over her slender frame. She raised and eyebrow and commented, "Got yourself in a mess, eh? Just couldn't resist spreadin' your legs for some boy?"

Elphaba grit her teeth, and her eyes blazed with anger, "You know nothing about me!" she spat.

The woman flapped her hand, "Sures I do. Seen hundreds of ya. Most goes a few blocks over to the man they call The Doc. Can't rightly say what he does, but some of 'em goes back to their lives, like it never happened."

Elphaba swallowed hard over her anger and asked through clenched teeth, "Does this Doc charge a fee?"

"Not rightly sure," the woman replied, "but surely you've got some money, in those fancy clothes…"

"The cloak is a gift from a friend. I'm afraid position got me into Shiz, rather than wealth," Elphaba shot back.

The woman grunted, and Elphaba didn't question whether she meant to be approving or disapproving. She curled up next to the fire, trying to use her cloak as padding against the cold ground. Elphaba tried to sleep, hoping Galinda was surviving the night and wondering if she'd noticed yet that Elphaba had switched their winter cloaks. If she had, she hoped Galinda understood why. Elphaba needed that little piece of her. She needed the scent of her friend that still lingered in the fabric. It gave her strength to do what must be done. It reminded her of what she could return to if she was successful. It made her feel loved.

Elphaba finally fell asleep, curled in on herself, and the night passed. The morning brought the rattling of dishes from a nearby restaurant, and a few scraps of yesterday's supper the cook was willing to spare. She was grateful for it, and ate hungrily before setting off. The sour old woman from the night before had begrudgingly given her directions to the man she called The Doc. Elphaba tried to ignore the smirk on her shriveled face as she turned to leave.

The day was dry and blisteringly cold. As she trudged the thirteen blocks, Elphaba struggled to keep her eyes open against the searing wind. It cut through her, like thousands of tiny knives, and she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Finally, just when her fingers began to feel numb, Elphaba spotted the sagging storefront the homeless woman had described. She approached it, wary.

Outside, another assortment of people huddled together for warmth, perhaps hoping for some sort of charity. Elphaba tried not to see them. She tried to look as small and unassuming as possible as she climbed the three steps that led to the door. Just before she reached it, a tiny, shriveled woman reached out and grasped her arm. The woman had been curled in the alcove just beside the door, in the shadows.

She looked into Elphaba's face and whispered, "Don't do it. Don't go in there. I hears them scream. I knows some of them don't come out…"

Elphaba shook the woman off. She was shaken, and her stomach felt like it contained rocks, but she forced herself to push open the door. She wasn't sure what she expected, but this wasn't it. The room was dark, lit only by candles and a couple of dim lanterns. It was a small, dank space, and there was a smell Elphaba couldn't identify.

She stood there for some time, and no one came. Finally, nervous and impatient, she shuffled quietly down the hallway ahead of her, looking in the open doorways for anyone she could find. When Elphaba looked into the third room, she froze. A woman lay on a cot in the dark space. She was so still, she could have been dead, and there was blood. There was blood covering her legs and seeping through the cot onto the floor. Elphaba began to tremble as she imagined what must have been done to the woman to cause such injury.

"Can I help you?"

A voice startled Elphaba, and she jumped backward with a little gasp. The only words she could choke out were, "Is she….?"

The plump, rosy woman looked around Elphaba and shrugged, "Not sure. Some make it, some don't. It's the nature of the thing."

Elphaba was speechless, with her heart in her throat.

"So, you need something or just wander in here by accident? You can't be the law. You're too…odd."

Elphaba let the insult go, trying to form some coherent words. Finally, she whispered, "I want to get rid of it…" she put both hands on her stomach, somewhat instinctively.

The woman smirked a little, "Got money? Doc doesn't do this for free. There's not much government payout in illegal abortion."

Elphaba shook her head, feeling something between relief and frustration.

"Then come back when you do. It's an even hundred for what you want."

Before she could argue, or even answer, a bone-chilling shriek split the air. Elphaba felt like she could feel the pain the person was experiencing through the vibrations. Suddenly, she realized what the odor around her was. It was blood. The whole place reeked with the metallic scent of blood.

Without another word, she turned and ran. The woman called after her, demanding she come back with payment, but Elphaba didn't respond. She slammed back through the front door and nearly tripped down the stairs. She ran several blocks until her lungs burned and her skin cracked from the cold. Miserable and desperate, she turned and stumbled into a restaurant.

Elphaba stood there, gasping for breath. She looked around at the handful of patrons and the man wiping glasses behind the counter. She suddenly realized she was terribly nauseous. She reached for a nearby chair as the room began to spin before her. Before she could sit, Elphaba fainted onto the floor.

When she came to, Elphaba was terrified. She was surrounded by strange faces that were pressing far too close for comfort. She tried to sit up, and someone placed a strong hand behind her back. As her eyes focused, Elphaba determined she was still in the restaurant. The man she'd seen wiping glasses was now helping her sit up.

"Give her some space," the man ordered, pushing the others back.

They obeyed, and Elphaba blinked as her head cleared. She was still nauseous, but her stomach also felt as though it was eating itself. After a few moments, the man helped her into a chair and offered some cool water.

"I'm not sure what's more unusual about this, having a girl faint on my floor, or the fact that she's green," the man quipped, smiling. It was a genuine smile that reached his eyes and made them shine a little. He was perhaps thirty, Elphaba decided, with plain brown hair and rather regular features. He was average height, with hands that were chafed as though he worked hard. There wasn't anything striking about him, except that he was helping her. In a city that had so far been cruel and cold, it was a welcome change.

"Will you be all right if I get you some soup?" the man asked after a few minutes.

Elphaba nodded, just glad to be warm. He returned a few moments later with a bowl and a plate of bread. Elphaba's mouth watered, but suddenly, when the scent of the soup reached her, she was overwhelmed by the nausea. The soup was onion, which had always been something she loved. Elphaba was perplexed and frustrated.

The man caught her reaction and asked, "Something wrong?"

"No. Yes. I'm sorry…apparently my body can't stomach onion soup today. Damned if I know why. I've always loved it. And it makes me sound terribly rude, since I'm starving," Elphaba admitted, rubbing her eyes in frustration.

The man studied her, a look of understanding flitting across his face as he smiled, "You're in luck. We've also got potato, made fresh this morning. It's a soup to die for."

Elphaba tried to look grateful for the quick removal of the offensive onion smell. In a moment's time, the man was back with another bowl. This time, Elphaba ate hungrily, and the other patrons lost interest and returned to their seats. As she was polishing off the bread, the man returned.

He offered his hand and said, "Matvei."

Elphaba gingerly shook his hand and chewed her lip, trying to decide if she should give her real name. She certainly didn't want anyone to connect her back to her family, or even Shiz, really. She hoped to disappear in a few days time, leaving no trace of who she was.

Matvei continued to look at her, expectantly, and she offered quietly, "Fae."

Elphaba wasn't sure what made her say it, but it made her feel less alone. She had thought up the name in a good moment, when she'd been so full of untainted dreams.

"All right then, Fae, what brings you to my restaurant?" Matvei asked.

"Your restaurant?" Elphaba asked, avoiding his question.

"Yes. I've been the owner for almost ten years now. It's a decent business, and I enjoy the people. I never know who I'll meet," he caught her eyes when he said the last part, and smiled.

Elphaba returned the smile, grateful for the kindness, at least.

"So, will you be telling me anything else about yourself, Fae?" Matvei sat across from her, crossing his arms over his chest in anticipation.

Elphaba studied him, and shook her head, "No. I can't. You've been kind, and I am grateful. That's all that matters."

Matvei looked concerned, but simply said, "I see…"

"You must know, I have no money for this," she indicated the food.

"Sometimes we all need a little charity," was all Matvei said in return.

Elphaba sat there for some time, appreciating the warmth and accepting the coffee she was offered. Finally, she forced herself to stand, testing her legs. She felt mostly stable, and she pulled on her cloak. Elphaba nodded her thanks to Matvei before slipping out the door. She didn't turn back, to see him staring after her with worry etched on his face.

She wandered a bit, trying to work out how she might procure some money. It seemed abundantly clear that theft was her only real choice. Elphaba knew she couldn't earn any decent amount in the short time that she had. The only somewhat legitimate way to earn it would be to venture into prostitution, and the thought of it turned her stomach violently.

No…it will have to be stolen, she told herself.

Elphaba made her way back to the door that belonged to The Doc and stood just across the street. She stayed there, staring at the crumbling façade of the building for some time. She knew she should be formulating a plan to get some money, but she was questioning whether she would have the nerve to go through with it, money or not. She wanted rid of this thing, but she was still only human. The thought of being held down while someone butchered her insides was terrifying. Elphaba had only a vague idea of how an abortion was carried out, but clearly it was bloody and gut-wrenchingly painful. So she stood there, feeling horribly torn and uncertain.

After some time, Elphaba realized someone was standing next to her. She turned just slightly to see the shriveled, little woman from earlier that day. She came only to Elphaba's shoulder in height, and she was swathed in so many layers of torn clothing that it was impossible to make out her stature.

She turned sagging, beady eyes on Elphaba and asked, "Trying to work up your nerve?"

Elphaba said nothing.

"I knows your kind. So many of you stand out here, trying to choose. I watch you go in. I hear the screams. I see you come out, bloody and barely able to walk. And then, some of you never come out…"

Elphaba bristled, but tried not to show her fear.

The woman was silent, staring into the side of Elphaba's face for some time. Then she offered, "I can help you, though. I have a tonic…"

Elphaba finally turned and looked at the woman, barely raising an eyebrow to show her interest.

"That's right," the woman smirked, "follow me and I can make all this go away…"

Elphaba followed, deciding she had no other choice, save for the horrific procedure waiting across the street. She followed the limping, old woman as she traveled a few blocks and then made her way slowly down a stairwell into a leaking stone basement. The room they entered was dark and filled with the choking scent of mildew. Elphaba coughed, and looked around, squinting in the dark.

There was barely enough space to turn around, and the tiny, closet-like space was filled with bottles, jars, tins, and vials. On the floor, sacks of something identifiable were stacked haphazardly. The woman studied the shelves for several minutes, before selecting a tiny, red vial filled to the stopper with liquid.

She offered it to Elphaba, but added, "And what can you give me in return?"

Elphaba narrowed her eyes, angry, "There's nothing free in this city, is there?"

"We've all got to make a living, somehows," the woman shrugged.

Elphaba couldn't argue, and she fished around in her pockets for anything she might offer. She hoped, seeing that this woman lived on the streets, that her expectations would be low. After some digging, her hand found the cool glass of the elixir bottle she'd purchased just days earlier. Elphaba pulled it out, and presented it to the old woman.

"It's Quadling glass, I believe. Good quality. It could fetch a price," she offered.

The woman took the vile, looking somewhat impressed, and replied, "Yes…this will do nicely. Quite nicely."

She slipped the red vial into Elphaba's hand and said nothing more. Elphaba ran, leaving the woman there to study the strange, green bottle she'd been given. Once out on the street again, Elphaba uncorked the red vial and downed it's contents, hoping desperately for more of a reaction than she'd experienced with the miracle elixir. And then she waited. She curled up in a corner between two stores and tried to keep warm as she waited. The sun moved across the sky and twilight began to descend.

Some time later, it started as a twinge in her stomach. Elphaba clutched her arms around herself as her body was riddled with pain. A cold sweat broke out, and she began to tremble violently. It was not, however, the pain she expected. The pain was not in her abdomen. This felt more like her body was trying to devour itself from the inside out. She tried to stand, and found she could barely walk. Realizing it was getting dark, and that she couldn't spend the night like this in the middle of the sidewalk, Elphaba stumbled toward some place safer.

She had to stop several times and vomit, and she was terrified of being caught like this. For all she knew, she would be accused of public drunkenness and carted away to some awful jail cell. As night fully descended, she realized she was once again in front of Matvei's restaurant. Seeing the warm light, she took a breath and pushed her way inside once more. She hadn't wanted to form any ties in this city, but she felt she had very little choice right now. She needed a decent place to see this thing through.

Matvei looked up at the rattle of the door, and frowned when he realized it was her. He made his way through the maze of tables and took her arm. Elphaba was starting to fade in and out of consciousness from the pain, and she offered very little resistance. He half carried her up a back stairway to a room that blurred before Elphaba's eyes. She recognized that he laid her on something soft, and he offered her a blanket and a cloth to wipe the cold sweat from her face.

Elphaba stayed there for some time, drifting in and out of waking and crying out in pain. Finally, after some indefinite amount of time, her vision cleared. She lay there, looking around. The room was small, but clean. There was a bed and a worn settee, on which she lay. A bright lamp was lit on the table, and the shelves were stocked with food. Matvei came to her and pulled up a stool on which to sit.

"Caught a bug from this awful cold?" he asked.

Elphaba considered the question, wondering why he bothered to care. She certainly knew that what she had was no 'bug'. Still, she also didn't have what she expected to have. There was no blood, no real sign of this awful thing being driven from her. She tried to come up with something believable to tell Matvei, so that she could thank him for his charity and move on.

"Perhaps I had some bad food," she muttered, and then felt badly, because all she'd eaten was his soup.

Matvei just smiled a little crooked smile, "Certainly it wasn't my soup. I don't know that I've ever seen this reaction…"

Elphaba pulled herself up to a sitting position and said nothing. She was torn, between enjoying the warmth and wanting to be done with all the questions.

After a long silence, Matvei took a death breath and said, "Truth? I see girls your age headed down my street all the time. I know what that so-called doc offers. I also know that a good number of them end up dead. I'm not sure where you come from, but I think I know what you want."

Elphaba started to argue, but he continued, "No one's ever asked my opinion before, but you're here, and I'm afraid I can't let this go unsaid. I don't think you're going to find anything that will take care of this the way you want to. And if you do, you'll most likely end up dead or mutilated. I don't think it's worth your life, to save face…"

"You know nothing about me!" Elphaba shot back, trying to stand. She was weak though, and the dizziness made her sit back down.

"There are just some things in life that can't be changed. Some things that can't be undone…" Matvei's voice was soft.

Elphaba watched him with a clenched jaw, feeling both angry and afraid that he was right.

There was a long, quiet moment when neither of them spoke. After some time, Matvei offered, "I'll give you a job, if you want it. It's a decent wage. You can stay here until you find something better. I know it's not the life you wanted, but it's better than dying. Or you can go back to your life and face whatever comes. It's not much of a choice, but it's all there is."

Elphaba stared at him, caught between uncertainty at why he would help her and the sinking feeling that he was right. She was afraid, and she was angry at the world for lack of better choices. And mostly, she was angry at herself, for ever allowing this to happen. She was caught between two hideous choices, with no idea which path to take.

Galinda survived the journey back to Shiz, if only barely. She wasn't the negotiator Elphaba was, and she was afraid she'd paid far more for lodging and safe passage than was necessary. Still, she supposed her parents could afford it.

She made her way wearily back up to her room after several days travel and dropped her satchels on the floor. The room was quiet, and just the way they had left it. But then, perhaps that was what bothered her the most. A few days earlier, it had been they. They went, a pair of best friends, on an adventure, and now Galinda had returned without the other half of herself.

She laughed sadly, amazed that in such a short time she was claiming Elphaba so intimately. Still, she missed her terribly and hoped desperately that she would show up with some wild story about where she'd been. Two days passed, though, with no sign of Elphaba. Classes were to start again the following day, and Galinda had no sign of her roommate.

She had no choice but to request to see Madame Morrible, to let her know that Elphaba had gone missing. She knew she would take a lashing from the headmistress for having left without a chaperone. And also from Nessarose and Nanny when they returned that evening. Still, she feared being without Elphaba more than she feared any punishment from Madame Morrible.

Galinda was also a touch angry, as she made her way towards the Headmistress' office. She felt angry and terribly betrayed that Elphaba had left her in this position. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't see Fiyero until she'd nearly run over him. He had been making his way towards Briscoe Hall, his arms full of satchels. They crashed into each other, and Galinda squealed. He was gracious, though, as he picked up his things from the snow.

"I'm sorry," Galinda mumbled.

"No harm done," he offered, "I assume you had a good holiday?"

Galinda couldn't hide her grimace, and she suddenly remembered how angry she was with Fiyero for ignoring Elphaba so thoroughly. Perhaps that had played a part in her sudden departure. When she spoke, Galinda knew her anger showed, "No, it was a rather terrible holiday, Fiyero."

"Well, I'm sorry for that," he answered.

Galinda saw no reason to hide any further, since it was all about to be public anyway, so she threw out, "Elphaba's gone."

Fiyero's looked taken aback, and asked, "Gone?"

"Yes Fiyero. She's gone. We went to the Emerald City and she disappeared. She's gone."

"Wait, you went where? How do you know she hasn't been kidnapped or something hideous?" he asked, looking genuinely concerned.

"All she left me was this," Galinda produced the note, which she'd been keeping in her pocket.

Fiyero read over it, his expression dark. Finally, he said, "That sounds typical, though I've never pretended to understand Elphaba Thropp."

"That's all you can say?" Galinda's voice was a high-pitched squeak, "She's gone, Fiyero! Gone! I know she hurt you, but the two of you did have a relationship! We can't just let her disappear into the city!"

"Elphaba made it very clear that what we had was not a relationship. If she doesn't want to be found, there's very little we can do about it."

"But Fiyero, have you thought of why? Why would she disappear? She had so many plans…"

Fiyero didn't answer, and Galinda could not tell if he was angry or wounded by the whole affair. He said nothing more, and Galinda felt terribly, achingly sad. She feared she might be the only person in this whole place who truly cared about Elphaba's disappearance.

And so the days passed. Morrible had Elphaba's things sent home and the room they'd shared felt too big, and echoed with emptiness. Galinda studied, and tried to avoid the shriveling glances Nessa gave her, as though she'd purposely lost her sister. Pfannee, Milla and Shenshen lost interest, as Galinda was clearly not the bubbly, self-absorbed girl she'd once been.

Life went on. The sun rose and set without regard for the grayness that had descended over Galinda's life. She was heartbroken in a way she'd never experienced, and she feared the void would never be filled. She kept the note from her friend in her pocket and draped herself daily in the cloak that she was certain Elphaba had purposely switched with hers.

Galinda wrapped herself in it at night, as well, and wondered. She wondered about her friend's well-being, her safety, her future. She wondered what she might have done wrong or what might've have caused Elphie to run. She wondered, and time passed. She wondered, and there was nothing. She wondered, and no answers came. And the only certainty, was that Galinda was clearly alone.