AN. The Australian production of Wicked had their first preview in New Zealand last night. And who was there? Stephen Schwartz. And he said that our cast is the best since the OBC! I'm so happy and proud and it makes me even more impatient to see it! (31 days!)

Chapter Thirty-Six

"Dear Fae,

It's been three days.

Dr Crowe says that there are some studies that suggest people in comas can hear, and are aware of what's going on around them. And I'm trying. I'm really trying to believe that and to talk to you... but it's not the same. And this has always been the way I've felt closest to you, and this way you can read them when you wake up.

Because you will wake up. You have to.

I can admit, I'm terrified, Fae. I don't think I've ever been this scared in my entire life.

Dr Askew and your father are both very good at saying vague statements that sound hopeful but don't actually tell us what's happening or what could happen. Dr Crowe is being more helpful, he knows us too well by now to get away with that kind of crap.

According to Dr Crowe, the treatment (magic or medicine, I'm not really sure. It could be both) seems to be working on treating the infection.

But the truth of the matter, is that he's doing everything he can; but in the end... it's going to come down to you. So I am begging you, Fae, I need you to grab hold of every stubborn tendency you have in every ounce of you; and use it all to come back to me.

It's not just me though, it's all of us.

Nessa cries. A lot. She's really worried about you, and... none of us know how to help her. It's hard, because we're not exactly in a position to raise her hopes. You'll be happy to know my mom is taking care of her though, comforting her when she cries, getting her tea and she makes sure that we all eat. Every so often she kicks us out of the hospital for an hour. Which is not necessarily a good thing. You know Galinda's way of coping with everything is to shop. In three days, she's already bought six pairs of shoes, four dresses and two hats.

Galinda's been sleeping on the floor in Nessa's room. Yes, Galinda Upland. Sleeping on the floor (well, a mattress on the floor, but still). She says she can't bear to sleep in your dorm room alone at the moment. Given the circumstances, Morrible doesn't mind and I think Nessa is glad she doesn't have to be alone right now either.

Boq... he's really quiet. I think he still kind of feels like he has to support us, you know? That he's still not as close to you as the rest of us and so he has to try and help us get through this. But I also think that being in this room for him scares him a little. Which I get, because it is scary. You're so still and so quiet and there's times when I just keep watching to see if you're breathing.

As I mentioned earlier, my mom and dad are here. I wrote them the day after you were admitted to hospital, because I knew they'd want to know, and they turned up at the hospital the same day they got the letter. I'm really glad they're here. You're not going to mock me for that, are you? For admitting I'm glad my parents are here? Well, I am. And not just for me, or for you. But actually for your dad.

Wow, that just looks weird on paper. "Your dad". He's always been "your father", this scary guy who doesn't know how to smile. And well, that hasn't changed but he has.

Fae, you probably won't believe me when you read this, but your father isn't doing any better than the rest of us. And I know it's complicated between the two of you, but seeing him now, I can almost imagine how he was when Nessa was born and your mother died. He's really worried, Fae. So I'm glad my parents are here, so my dad can talk to yours. Because if they weren't here, I would have no idea what to say to him.

He goes for a lot of walks. Around the hospital, I guess, I mean I don't follow him or anything. But he just disappears, and then comes back after a while and doesn't speak to anyone.

What else can I tell you? Um... your room is once again a florist, which I'm sure you'll love once you wake up. And you've had a bunch of visitors. Michi has been by, as has several others in your support group. Hollei is in remission, she just found out. She didn't want to say anything, because of the circumstances, but well... she was pretty damn happy. And I'm happy for her, really. But at the same time... Oz, I wish it was you.

I dream about that moment, you know? I'm sure you did too, although I know you'd never tell not even me if you did, because for someone who doesn't believe in fate or superstition, you're very weird about not speaking daydreams aloud in case you jinx it. But I love you for it. For all we know about each other, it's nice that there's still these little hidden mysteries for me to guess about. Because it makes the moments where you let me inside your head that much sweeter.

I miss you, Fae. You're so close to me, but you're not there. Everything about you that makes you 'Elphaba', my Elphaba... everything about you that I love, is locked away somewhere, inside your own mind.

I realise this letter may be coming off a little creepy, like I'm spending all my time by your bedside staring at you. And ok, that may be true, but it's not creepy.

Do you remember that night when you fell asleep in my room and I carried you back to your room? When I put you into your bed, you looked so peaceful and beautiful. And I remember thinking... thinking that the idea of getting to wake up to that sight every morning for the rest of our lives was just... the best thing I could imagine.

Fae, I'm so in love with you that sometimes it makes me dizzy. And the idea that you might not wake up, and all those dreams might not happen is terrifying.

I told you once that you are the only girl I've ever loved. And that's as true now as it was then, and it'll be true for the next ten, twenty, fifty years. So you have to wake up, you have to come back to me; because I can't see a life beyond you.

I love you, Fae.

Fiyero."

Fiyero finished writing his letter and looked up. There was no change. Boq was still in one corner working on an assignment, and Elphaba was still unconscious.

He sighed, putting down his pen and carefully folding up the letter. He was having trouble with the whole idea that Elphaba could still hear them, even in a coma. Nessa and Galinda didn't seem to have that problem, Galinda especially would sit by her best friend's bedside and chatter away, forcing herself to keep her voice bright and cheery as though that would make a difference.

But every time Fiyero had tried to sit down and talk to Elphaba, he got stuck. And then he had just started writing, and suddenly he was unstuck.

"Fiyero?"

Fiyero looked up and forced a smile for his mother. "Hey, Mom."

"What are you up to? Homework?"

He almost laughed. "No. Sorry, Mom. I was just writing. To Elphaba."

Kasmira looked at him quizzically and he shrugged. "I know Dr Crowe says that she can hear but... it doesn't feel like she's in there, Mom. I can't... I can't feel her."

Fiyero's voice broke slightly, and Kasmira hugged him tightly.

"She's in there, Yero. Just give her time," she said softly.

"It's always been so easy to write to her. Even when I didn't know who she was," Fiyero continued quietly. "Plus, I thought that this way, she can read them. When she wakes up, and find out what was going on."

His mother smiled gently. "I think that's a wonderful idea. And I'm sure Elphaba will love them."

Fiyero made sure to write to Elphaba every day as he sat by her bed side, and every night he would carefully store the letters in his desk drawer, ready to give to her when she woke up. His mother remained the only person he told what he was doing, although he was sure that she had confided that fact in his father.

None of the others bothered him about what he was doing, they were too wrapped up in their own minds to worry about what Fiyero was writing every day.

By this time it was April, and the weather was slowly beginning to warm.

"Don't you guys have to get home?" Fiyero asked his father when he realised that. "You know, run the province and all?"

"Nope," Ibrahim replied evenly. "Not for a family emergency."

Fiyero smiled faintly, feeling a wave of affection for his parents. He was quiet for a long moment, his thoughts back by Elphaba's side. Ibrahim had insisted he come get some fresh air, and father and son had found their way to the roof, where they could be guaranteed privacy.

"Dad? Have you ever thought about mom dying?"

Ibrahim was startled by the question, and gave it serious thought as he answered his son.

"I think everyone has those thoughts at one time or another," he said finally. "They're not pleasant thoughts, but I think they always come up. It's a scary idea, losing the person you love the most. I know when your grandmother died... I definishly thought about it, what it would be like to be in your grandfather's position. I'm sure your mother had the same thoughts."

"But you didn't think of it at my age? Before you and Mom were married?"

"No," Ibrahim admitted. "I was twenty-one when your mother and I were married. We were young and... we had the world at our feet, our lives were just beginning. We didn't think about anything other than the rest of our lives."

Fiyero nodded soberly. He had been ten when his grandmother died, and his grandfather had died two years later. Fiyero had never considered being in the same situation, not at his age.

"The rest of our lives..." he repeated quietly. "That's all I've been dreaming of for the past year. And I've been trying to hang on to those thoughts for four months now. And Elphaba could die before we even get to begin our life together."

"Son, you have to stay positive. Elphaba will pull through-" Ibrahim tried to reassure him.

"What if she doesn't?" Fiyero interrupted, unable to stop himself from saying his fear aloud. "What if she doesn't pull through? Or what if she survives this infection, but gets another? Or the cancer gets her? Or it comes back?"

He buried his face in his hands, trying to regain control of himself. His father waited in silence as Fiyero tried to regain control of himself. But his voice still shook slightly as he spoke again.

"You know, I don't think I've ever hated being a prince more than I do now."

Ibrahim was both stunned and confused. He knew being royal wasn't easy at times, and Fiyero didn't always love the responsibilities, expectations or the way of life that came along with that, but Fiyero rarely expressed hatred for their status in life.

"Fiyero?"

Fiyero looked up at him, his voice hollow. "If I lose Elphaba, I can't stop my life. Because I have all those responsibilities that comes with being royalty. The throne will need an heir, and all that crap. But Dad... Elphaba is the only girl I've ever loved, or will ever love. She's my life. She's it. And if she dies... I don't know what I'm going to do for the rest of my life."

The look of complete loss and agony on Fiyero's face and the unshed tears in his eyes broke Ibrahim's heart. "Son-"

"And don't tell me that one day I'd meet someone new and feel something again, because I won't." Fiyero knew that for sure. There was no alternative to a life with Elphaba.

Ibrahim squeezed his shoulder lightly, in some form of comfort, feeling helpless. "Fiyero, listen to me. I have no doubt of how much you love Elphaba, and everything that it will mean to you if Oz forbid, she doesn't make it. But what I was trying to say was that I don't think now is the time to worry about the next fifty years of your life. Concentrate on Elphaba, and getting her through this. Then you plan the rest of your life accordingly."

Fiyero looked at his father and nodded.

"OK," he said finally, his voice thick with tears.

Ibrahim made to get up, and then stopped.

"Yero, your mother and I have agreed that Elphaba is part of our family. We care for her very much, and we both know and are very much looking forward to the day that she will become our daughter-in-law. And you are our son, who we love and is very important to us, more than anything else. More than any responsibility. If this doesn't go the way we'd like to, and you want to spend the rest of your days as a grieving and alone bachelor... your mother and I will support that. As long as you take care of yourself physically and mentally. Meaning don't stop showering and grow a ten foot beard."

Despite everything, Fiyero cracked a smile. It was probably the image of himself with a ten foot beard. But once again, he felt a rush of affection and gratitude for his parents.

"Thanks, Dad. For everything."

Ibrahim returned the smile. "That's what fathers are for, right?"

"Dearest Fae,

Today is day five.

I had a talk with my dad today. A really good talk.

And for the first time, I think I really saw how much I've changed. How much you've changed me.

I don't think that ten months ago (or nineteen, depending on where you count from. This is not an anniversary thing, it's a entirely different matter) my father and I could have had an adult conversation like this. He would have tried, but... well, I wouldn't have taken it seriously.

Or maybe it's that he wouldn't have taken me seriously. Which is fair, I don't think I deserved to be taken seriously until I fell in love with you. But it's actually nice to be almost on equal footing with my parents. More two adults than parent and child.

I wish I knew what to say to you, Fae. Every day, I'm sitting by your side and I wish I could find the words to speak to you. But every time I try, I just get stuck. The words get stuck in my brain, and just never find their way to my mouth.

And I wish I knew why, but I don't. I just know that it's not the same unless you can talk back to me. I know I'm not the wisest guy in the world, or the most intellectual, but I love our conversations, Fae. I always end up learning something new, about myself, or the world, or you. Why do you think I kept all your letters? Everything you say has this truth to it. Since I've known you, you've become my conscience, the guiding voice in my life.

So maybe it's too hard to talk to you, when I keep waiting for you to talk back. But when I write to you... I can say anything.

I promise, Fae, I'll keep trying. As long as you keep trying to come back to me.

I love you.

Fiyero."

AN. When I was writing the scene with Fiyero and Ibrahim, I literally had to stop and call Kelly, because I was in tears.