A/N: This was so much fun to write which probably says a lot about me. The entire prompt is called "the other is losing their mind when their partner is hurt/killed and charges into battle recklessly".

"Happy" reading and let me know what you think! (:

The second Glinda heard that blood-curdling scream, she knew that this sound would haunt her for the rest of her life. Squatting behind a dark curtain in a corner of the room, she couldn't see much of what was happening, only flashes of lights and shadows that barely made any sense.

But that didn't stop her from listening.

She had heard the witch hunters call for her best friend's life before, but she had always hoped that she never had to witness their success. And yet here she was, hiding like a coward, while Elphaba emitted a cry that was meant to be the last sound of her life. Her entire body was shaking, although not due to the fear of being discovered. Elphaba had forced her to promise that she would hide and not make herself a target, but now, barely a second after she was gone from her life forever, that promise already seemed impossible to keep.

In her mind, Elphaba's scream lasted a lifetime, but in reality, it was soon drowned out by cheers of joy and celebration. Someone started to call out Dorothy's name and was soon joined by countless other voices, praising her like a long-awaited savior. Glinda choked out a sob that seemed to split her body in two – if not for the deafening cheers she surely would have been discovered by now.

Elphaba was gone. Her best friend, lover and everything in between and beyond was dead.

She had been murdered by a little girl who Glinda had welcomed to Oz, clueless of what her arrival would eventually lead to. If Glinda could go back in time, she would scream at herself to imprison or even kill the brat before she got the chance to take everything from her.

Because even though they had been separated for years now, Elphaba was everything to her. Just the knowledge that she was out there somewhere, living and breathing and fighting for what she believed, had encouraged her to do the same. To be the kind of okay that she needed to be to put on the mask of Glinda the Good every morning.

The black, all-consuming knowledge of Elphaba being dead was swallowing her in whole, leaving nothing but empty numbness.

She fell to her knees, clutching her body as if that could stop it from falling apart. The curtain moved with her and yet she couldn't bring herself to care.

The corset of her pompous dress seemed to lace itself tighter with every shallow gasp, strangling her lungs and waist and squeezing the oxygen right out of her. Stars danced in front of her eyes as she desperately tried to even out her breathing.

It didn't work. Not because she didn't know how to handle her panic attacks by now, as they had become a regular occurrence during the last years, but because her will to go on was gone. Vanished together with her best friend burning to death only a few feet away from her and drowned out by her scream still fresh in her mind. The sound pierced through her mind, grating on her eardrums and deafening the little voice telling her to calm down and do what Elphaba had asked her to.

Light suddenly fell on her, blinding her through the tears blocking her view, and the cheers began to fade away as they noticed Glinda huddling in the corner.

"Your goodness?" The voice of a woman asked first; through the veil of Glinda's tears her shadow holding a torch in one and a pitchfork in the other hand reminded her of the devil himself.

"Lady Glinda?"

The blonde's head shot upwards as she immediately recognized the high-pitched voice. Furiously wiping away her tears with shaking hands, she turned to Dorothy Gale. She regretted the action as soon as she realized what she saw.

Dorothy was still clutching the now empty bucket of water in her greedy hands, but that wasn't what split Glinda's heart in two, making the task of breathing even more impossible. Instead, it was the black pointy head she had found in her closet at Shiz decades ago which sat prominently on top of Dorothy's head.

The mask Morrible and the Wizard had forced on her had gotten its fair amount of cracks over the years, meticulously painted over with strong symbols like the useless wand lying behind her, the spell that allowed her to travel by bubble or her doll-like beauty. But this wasn't another crack she could conceal with some hard work and a smile that was almost too big for her face.

This time, the mask shattered. No one else could notice its absence yet, but that would not be for long.

"You," she spit in Dorothy's direction, her voice hoarse from all the crying. "Give. That. Back."

Her little face fell, its soft features screwing up in confusion.

"What?" Dorothy stammered while Glinda pulled herself together well enough to stand back up. Her knees were shaking under her weight, but thanks to her long, flowing gown, no one could see it.

"The hat! It doesn't belong to you, you little murderous monster, and I will not ask again."

"But your goodness," one of the Wizard's men chimed in, "she killed the Wicked Witch! Surely she gets the honor of-"

Another sob freed itself from Glinda's throat, effectively cutting the guard of. "Her name was Elphaba!"

Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks and she could taste their saltiness on her lips as she continued to speak, turning back to Dorothy.

"And I should have killed you when I had the chance."

Dorothy looked around the room, clearly searching for support. "But … I don't understand, you said she was wicked and I-"

"She was my best friend!" Glinda screamed, striding towards the girl, every cell of her body feeling like it was on fire, the flames hollowing her out from within. "She was everything to me, I loved her more than I ever loved anyone else and you murdered her!"

"I didn't mean to!" She started to protest but never got to finish as Glinda jumped the last few feet towards her, grabbing the hat and clutching it close to her body.

It was almost as if it helped her breathe, filling a small part of the emptiness left inside of her, but of course it didn't even come close to the person who used to wear it.

She had made the mistake of giving away Nessa's slippers and she refused to make it again. Now she understood why they had been so important to Elphaba, who wasn't the type to try and wear them herself. They could have been a reminder of the sister she lost, something to hold onto when the person herself wasn't there to hold anymore, and Glinda had carelessly taken that opportunity away from her.

Another realization that came too late, another regret in the long row of them behind her.

Not this time. Not this hat, the very symbol of their friendship and everything that had followed.

"She was your friend?" One of the guards asked and Glinda knew in that moment that, similar to Elphaba, she would never leave this castle alive again. They might not kill her, not yet anyway and not without the Wizard's permission, but she had squandered her reputation and high status the second they had found her behind the curtain.

She might still look like Glinda the Good, but now her magnificent gown and sparkling tiara were nothing more than a pretty disguise, even more so than before. She had stopped playing her part and dropping the act meant dropping everything else too.

Maybe it would have felt liberating, the chains of her confinement finally gone, if it wasn't also inextricably linked with Elphaba's death.

"The Wicked Witch of the West?" Another man asked in a dangerously low tone, walking towards her with a knife firmly in his hand. "Your friend?"

Glinda didn't even look at him as she answered, her eyes fixating only the girl in the blue and white dress who stood only a couple feet in front of her. "You heard me. And I've denied it for far too long."

The man who had just spoken seemed to get ready to attack her, a hint of blood lust sparkling in his eyes, mixed with the desire of winning himself a little glory, even if he hadn't managed to kill the green sorceress herself. Glinda didn't know what she would have done, after all, she had neither the strength nor the necessary weapons to defend herself, but she didn't have to find out. Two of the Wizard's guards stopped him, although she highly doubted that they did it for her.

Their next words confirmed what she had already assumed.

"The Wizard will want to hear that for himself."

"She's just admitted that-," the man protested, struggling against the strong grip that held him back, but was soon cut off by one of the guards.

"We've all heard it. But we didn't come here to kill Glinda the Good and the Wizard won't be pleased if we don't consult him first."

Glinda shook her head, a strangled, perverted version of her former bell-like laugh freeing itself from her throat. "Such cowards you are. Coming out here on a witch hunt, letting a little girl do all the dirty work for you. At least she possessed the cruelty to do what needed to be done."

Slowly, she walked closer towards Dorothy, who seemed to shrink in size with every step.

"You burned her alive. Did you know that? Don't look so shocked, of course she didn't melt."

She spit out the last word, some of her saliva probably landing on the girl's face, though she didn't seem to notice, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open. "She burned to death, and you had nothing better to do than steal this hat right afterwards and put it on your own head."

Tears streamed down her cheeks as someone pulled her away from Dorothy, almost ripping her arm out in the process.

"Did you hear her scream?" Glinda yelled while one of her arms was twisted behind her back, her free hand still holding onto the hat for dear life. "I hope you hear that scream for the rest of your life!"

Another guard ripped on her arm and loosened her death grip on Elphaba's hat, while she could do nothing more than watch, kicking and screaming at him not to. When he did succeed, the loss of the material beneath her fingers felt like losing her all over again.

"Tie her up and gag her", he ordered as Elphaba's scream and her own mixed in her ears and mind, her tears blocking her sight. "We'll bring her to the Wizard, and he can decide what to do with her."

Someone punched her in the stomach as she didn't stop fighting against them, her eyes now no longer on Dorothy but on the hat which she had lost once again. Another punch made the corners of her field of vision turn black, slowly filling up her entire view.

The last thing she saw before passing out was the guard carelessly throwing the hat to the ground where it rolled over the floor, only stopping as it reached a closed trapdoor.

Even then, Elphaba never stopped screaming.