She heard the gun go off. She felt the bullet crack her skull. She felt the blood pour down the side of her face. She smelled death on the air.

Then there was only darkness.

--

Chapter Thirty-Four:

"Master Fiyero, there is a man at the gates who refuses to leave until he sees you."

Fiyero sighed but did not turn around to face the guard. "Send him away," he replied. "I wish to see no one."

"We have tried. He will not leave. And he has a child, which he threatens to harm if he does not see you."

Fiyero finally turned from the window he was looking through. They had moved the still-unconscious Mirelle into the unconscious green Witch's room and that's where he now stood. He was still having difficulty accepting the fact that not only was his daughter injured and unconscious but that Elphaba had finally done what she had always wanted to – had attempted suicide – yet the green woman still lived. Her body still breathed, her heart still beat, but the doctors doubted she would ever wake again. To Fiyero it seemed almost cruel to allow her to live like this; with her body functioning but her cognitive thinking all but gone. Was her soul trapped in her lifeless body? Would she never be given the release she desires until she truly died? He didn't know but it frightened him to think that they were keeping her soul trapped in this world by letting her body live on like this – in this empty shell of a person.

"Master Fiyero?" The guard's voice shook Fiyero from his thoughts and he nodded at the concerned guard.

"I will see this man," Fiyero said, "and send him away from here. I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone, much less a stranger who threatens to harm a child to get what he wants."

The guard nodded and led Fiyero through the palace. It only took a few minutes for them to reach the palace gates and Fiyero stood behind them, refused to let this strange man into the courtyard. "You wished to speak to me," he spat out, "and here I am. Speak."

"I am your bastard son Liir and I've come to introduce my daughter to her grandfather."

Fiyero was momentarily stunned. "Who are you, to claim to such a thing?" he eventually asked.

The man, who claimed to be Liir, did not reply. Instead, without a word, he removed the large hat the child with him wore and she looked up at Fiyero. She was around Mirelle's age, perhaps a little older, and perfectly proportioned. She looked like any other little girl except for one minor flaw.

She was green.

Fiyero nearly fainted at the shock of what he was seeing. He grabbed the guard's arm to steady himself. "Who is… this cannot be… what is this witchery!" he finally snapped out. "This cannot be!"

"It can and it is," Liir replied calmly. "I never intended to show my face to you or to my mother ever again but my daughter has begged and pleaded to meet her grandparents. So that is why I am here, if you care to know such a thing."

"Your mother is dead!" Fiyero screamed. It was not the truth, and he knew that, but he was so shocked and terrified of this man who claimed to be his son that he simply wanted to drive him away.

For a brief moment Liir looked both surprised and horrified until he could gather his bearings and rearrange his face into an impartial expression. "She wasn't much of a mother to me," he chose to spit out. "So there is little grief in such a statement for me."

"Grand-mama is dead?" the child asked. She looked up at her father in confusion. "But you said –"

"I know what I said," Liir interrupted without looked at her. "How did she die?" he asked.

Fiyero was still so shocked that the thought to not tell Liir did not even cross his mind. "She shot herself," he blurted out, "in the head."

"She was suicidal?"

"For most of her life."

"I thought that a witch could not die. That a witch would always come back."

"You thought wrong!"

"You're lying to me," Liir said. "She's not dead."

"She shot herself!"

"That may be true but she is not dead, is she? If she was you wouldn't be standing here talking to me, now would you?"

Fiyero frowned. "How did you know?"

"I can see it in your eyes. The grief is there but so is hope. She is alive still, but not well, yet you are holding on to hope that she will survive. A hope based solely on the fact that she is a witch, correct?"

'You're an observant one."

"I am a witch's son."

Fiyero nodded to the guard and soon the large gate was unlocked and opened just enough to allow Liir and his daughter to enter. Fiyero spoke no words, gave no orders, and simply turned around and made his way back to the palace. He left the choice up to Liir. Liir could decide to follow him or not. Liir could decide to see his unconscious mother. Liir could decide to meet his half-sister. Liir could decide to bring his daughter into the room with the only other green-skinned person in all of Oz. Liir could decide and Liir could face the consequences.

The guards stared, the servants gawked, and Liir did nothing to hide his daughter's green skin. Fiyero was acutely aware of their presence behind him as they navigated the twisting halls and stairways of the palace until they reached Elphaba's room. He pushed the door opened and then stepped to the side, allowed his son and granddaughter to see the two unconscious people lying, unmoving, in their respective beds.

"If you truly are who you claim to be then that makes Mirelle your half-sister," Fiyero said.

Liir looked up at his father in shock. "Half-sister?" he questioned.

"Yes."

There was silence. Liir's daughter let go of her father's hand and approached Elphaba's bed. "She's green," the child whispered in awe. She climbed up onto the bed, the two adults just watched, and took one of her delicate white gloves off – held her hand near Elphaba's face. "She's the same colouring as me."

Fiyero was shocked. They were not just green; they were the same identical colour of green. They could be the exact same person.

"That she is," Liir said. "Now get off her bed, she's not well."

"Fiyero," a voice cut into the room. It was Glinda. "Fiyero, what is going on here? The guards said – who are these people?"

Fiyero turned to the doorway, looked at Glinda for a few long moments. "Liir."

It was one word, one name, but Glinda knew who he was. She remembered from the time the Wizard had been here, when Elphaba had accidentally confessed of the child she had had with Fiyero without his knowledge. Her mouth opened in shock and she let out a gasp when she saw the child sitting upon Elphaba's bed.

"And the girl?" she asked quietly

"His daughter. And, in a way, his proof."

"Shell's power in the West is rising," Liir suddenly said. "And I fear what he may do when he gathers the courage and the followers he needs."

"If that's what you came to tell us I regret to say that we already knew such a thing," Fiyero said but it was clear he was still reeling from the fact that his son stood in the same room as him.

"And did you ever tell my mother?"

"No," Glinda spoke up as she crossed the room; took a hold of the young girl's hand and gently helped her off of Elphaba's bed. "We didn't feel that there was any need to worry Elphie."

"Her brother is working as a Gale Force member and secretly plotting to have you all overthrown. You didn't think that was a necessary fact to tell her?"

"He's not secretly doing anything," Fiyero snapped out. "Why do we think we allowed him into the Gale Force ranks in the first place? We're keeping an eye on him. Everything is under control so just stop trying to help us when you have only just arrived."

"He helped me sneak into the Southstairs."

Fiyero sighed. "Look, it's nice to see you and all Liir but I don't know you. You may be my son by birthright but you are not my son in any other way. I don't need your life story, not right now. Maybe if it was a different time, maybe if Elphaba and Mirelle were not lying on their deathbeds, I would be more inclined to listen to you, or to care even."

"I did not intend for this to be some romantic meeting where we would cry and babble about how much we regret never seeing each other," Liir replied. "I came for my daughter, and to tell you what I know about Shell. I fear that he may harm his sister but it seems that Elphaba may not live for Shell to set his plans into motion."

"Shell will not do anything," Fiyero spat out. "And this conversation is over. You and your daughter are welcomed to stay in the palace for as long as you wish. But be aware, the citizens of the Emerald City may not take too kindly to your green-skinned child."

"I know the consequences of her colouring well," Liir said and he sounded angry. "You do not need to remind me of such a thing!"

"Then we are on the same page," Fiyero replied, just as angrily. "I trust you can handle yourself within the palace!"

"Fiyero," Glinda whispered as Liir's daughter fled the blonde's side and returned to her father. "Fiyero, why are you being so cold like this? This is your son –"

"He is not my son!" Fiyero screamed. "He is just some child that Elphaba herself cannot even remember carrying to term! He is just a man! A man that is no different than any other man!" He stormed from the room; slammed the door behind him.

Glinda was frightened of Fiyero's anger; terrified to be truthful. She looked from Liir to her unconscious daughter and then finally to her unconscious friend. Elphaba's green skin was still stained a deep purple colour across her right cheek as in her unconscious state she seemed unable to heal properly. Or perhaps it was the bullet still lodge in her brain, the bullet the doctors had been unable to remove without fear of killing her, that was causing her to be unable to heal as fast as she normally would.

Glinda left then, shutting the door quietly behind her, and walked the halls in silence. Fiyero's anger terrified her and she feared the way he was quick to resort to violence to deal with his emotions. She wondered if perhaps his childhood had not been as great as he claimed it to be. Elphaba had been violent towards Mirelle because she had been shown violence towards her by Frex. It only made logical sense that Fiyero himself must have been shown some measure of anger in his childhood to resort to the level of violence he often did. He acted as if he was disgusted by the way Elphaba reacted in anger and violence to situations that did not entirely warrant such drastic measures but Fiyero was not in any more control over his emotions. At least Elphaba accepted her mistakes, at least Elphaba realized she was wrong and wanted to do all that she could to fix it. Fiyero was simply in denial. Fiyero would not accept that how he often acted was wrong.

Fiyero needed to be put in his place and Glinda knew that she was the only one who could do it. Elphaba was too afraid of losing his love to speak up against him and he had no other people in his life besides herself and Mirelle.

Glinda suddenly realized that Elphaba must be terrified of angering him. She had only been struck by him once but Elphaba, dear Elphie, had been on the receiving end of his anger more times than Glinda could remember. What kept Elphaba coming back? Was it blind love? Was it fear? Was it desperation? Or was the love that Fiyero showed her enough to make up for his moments of blind fury?

It was with the thought of speaking up against Fiyero that brought Glinda to his study. She did not knock and instead just entered to find Fiyero standing out on the balcony, a half-empty bottle of scotch in his hand. The blonde crossed the room and stood behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist.

"This must be hard for you," she whispered, "to see Liir. To have him come so suddenly and unexpectedly."

"It's fine," Fiyero replied. He took a swig from the bottle he held. "He means little to me."

"He's still your son."

"I worry more about his daughter."

"She is green, if anything that will help the people to realize that green skin does not equal an evil soul."

"Or they will murder her out of fear."

Glinda inhaled sharply. "Fiyero, you shouldn't think like that."

"I can't help it."

Glinda released her hold on Fiyero's waist and gently took the bottle from his hand. "You get angry when you drink," she explained as he looked at her in annoyance. "And I don't like it."

"I don't get angry!" he countered.

"Yes you do. In fact, you've been getting angry a lot lately."

"So?"

"It frightens me."

"Well it shouldn't!"

Glinda looked away to stare at the setting sun. "You hit me," she whispered. "And you've hit Elphie a multitude of times. Don't you see that that is wrong? Don't you see you're turning into a monster?"

"Elphaba deserved it!"

"No she didn't. No one deserves such a thing and you know that. You just don't want to admit you have a problem with anger. You just don't want to face yourself."

"I don't have a problem!"

"Can you look at yourself in a mirror?" Glinda asked. "Can you face your own mistakes? I've always been able to, Elphie is learning to, but I fear that you cannot. That frightens me because I don't want to lose you. I don't want to help Elphie get better only to watch you get worse."

"You're not exactly the picture of perfection yourself!" Fiyero snapped at her as he grabbed her arm and forcefully turned her around so that she had to look at him. "Don't tell me how to cope!"

"I'm the only one of us three who seems to have any responsible, non-harmful way to cope," she replied calmly. "And this anger is exactly what I'm talking about."

Fiyero stared at her long and hard. He grabbed the bottle from her grasp and took a rather large gulp from it – ignoring Glinda's cross look that she gave him.

"Your childhood, it was hard, wasn't it?" Glinda asked and her voice was a mere breath on the air; she feared that her question would only anger him further but she felt that she had to ask.

"It wasn't easy," he said, "but I was not abused… not anywhere near the level as Elphaba."

"But you were, weren't you?"

"My father ruled the Vinkus," Fiyero whispered as he now turned to stare at the setting sun; finding it difficult to look at Glinda as he talked. "He was a man of rules. Our household was strict."

"So you were hit growing up?"

"Corporal punishment was not uncommon in any family. It is not frowned upon there like it is in the rest of Oz. You must remember Glinda, the Vinkus is a very different land with very different morals than what you were raised with."

Glinda took the bottle of scotch from Fiyero once again and set it on the balcony's railing. She took his hand then, laid her head against his arm. "I know that," she whispered. "But we don't live in the Vinkus. We live here, in the heart of the Emerald City, and here corporal punishment is frowned upon. So is striking a woman, no matter whom and for what reason. Even the Officials will not strike a woman down in public no matter the crime they commit."

"They will for prostitution, you know that."

"For the ones that do not cooperate. But that is not the point. The prostitutes need to be helped anyways, but you know my opinion on that matter and that's not what we're discussing right now. Right now we're discussing you."

"So I have a slight drinking problem, is not anywhere near as bad as Elphaba's."

"Elphie has enough of a drinking, drugs, and self-abuse problem for all of us. I don't think I have the strength to save both her and you."

"Well… that decision might be made for you."

"She's not going to die."

"You say I'm blind to my anger issues… well you are being just as blind towards Elphaba. She shot herself Glinda… who can –"

"I know exactly what she did," Glinda quietly interrupted. "I saw, remember? I was there. If I had only been a moment quicker, just a second, I could have stopped her. But I wasn't. And that is the facts Fiyero. But she still breathes. And her heart still beats. She will recover, she always does."

"The fact is that she shot herself, no one can survive that. And I fear that her soul is trapped in her mindless body. What if we are keeping her soul in this world simply because we cannot bear to let her go?"

"You think we should kill her," Glinda whispered in horror.

"A mercy killing. It's common in the Vinkus."

"And again I remind you, this is not the Vinkus!"

Fiyero sighed. "Now who's the one getting angry?"

"Don't twist this back on me. I'm trying to help you Fiyero, can't you see that?"

"And I'm trying to help Elphaba. Can't you see that?"

There was silence. Eventually Glinda spoke. "I know you love her more than me," she said. "And I know it hurts you to see her as she is. And I know you would give anything to have me out of the picture. But I am here, and I will be here as long as Mirelle is. I don't ask for your love because I know I will never have it again. I simply want your friendship and your support when it comes to Elphie. I want to help her be happy again and I know she needs you for such a thing. But I fear leaving her alone with you because I fear that one day your anger will overwhelm you and you may harm her in such a way that will not heal. Or perhaps even kill her."

"I still love you," Fiyero replied and he wrapped his arm around Glinda; pulled her close. "And that is not a lie, no matter how much you may think it is. I just, with Elphaba there is something more there. And if she does survive I think we could make this three-way relationship work, if we are all willing to put effort into it. And to stop keeping secrets from each other. That's the big thing, I think, the communication. We don't communicate nearly enough and we need to if we want this to work as I know it can."

Glinda sighed. "If Elphie does wake up what will we do with Liir? Surely seeing him will only harm her."

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it… if we ever do. For all we know Liir may be long gone before she ever wakes up."

"You mean to cast him out?"

"No. He can stay as long as he wishes, I just don't think he wishes to stay very long."

"I came here to talk to you about your anger, not anything else."

"My anger is not an issue."

"Yes it is. Elphie still has that ugly bruise on her face. And remember when you hit me? Don't you remember how my eye swelled shut?"

Fiyero leaned down and tenderly kissed Glinda on the neck. "Does it really matter?" he whispered into her ear. "I love you, is that not enough?"

"Sometimes I don't think it is," Glinda replied but her voice had lost its commanding tone as Fiyero's warm breath tickled her neck.

He took her hand, led her inside, and did not once stop his attack on her neck. She giggled and moaned and her breaths begun to come in heavy gasps. She realized now why Elphaba kept coming back to him. He was everything Glinda could ever want. He gave her everything she did not have. He was her missing piece, just as he was Elphaba's missing piece, and she wondered if Fiyero had enough to fill both of their souls.

Her thoughts ran rampart and unconnected as he pushed her onto the large sofa within the study. She tore of his shirt and her hands traced the pattern of blue-diamonds on his chest. "Oh, oh Fiyero," she moaned. "Fiyero… I've missed this."

"And so have I," he said as he drew his kisses down her neck. He stopped only to help her wriggle out of her dress – it joined his shirt on the floor – and then kissed a path down her chest and stomach. She slipped her hands into the waistband of his trousers and soon they too joined the piled of discarded clothes on the floor. In time their undergarments were also added to the pile and their hands and mouths roamed over each other's bodies in a way that they had not experience together in ages. It seemed, to Glinda, like Fiyero was finally giving to her in a way that he had given to Elphaba for so very long. This was what she had always wanted.

Yet, as they lay intertwined together after the act was done, Glinda could not find the love within her that she knew she was meant to feel. As she laid on top of him, her head resting on his heaving chest, she could not help but feel as if Fiyero had used her love and the act of sex to distract her from what she had initial come to him to speak of. Instead she felt, Glinda realized, how Elphaba must so often feel.

She felt used.