Collecting You

By gypsylemon

Author's Note: Yes, I know there's also a book, which I read, but this fic takes place at the end of the Broadway play. Even so, it adopts many aspects from the book, so in a way it's a crossover/AU.

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me except the ideas.

Chapter 3: Oh What A Celebration

Since Elphaba fell into another deep sleep, the next two days were filled with silence, at least for Glinda, but as the first day went by, she noticed the word 'coma' might have possibly better-described Elphie's sleep. She stayed in the same position she lay down in the night before and did not move unless moved. Her breathing was light and silent and for one terrified minute, Glinda thought her dead.

But she proved to be alive and still tormented by god knows what when, the next day, she woke with a scream. Glinda stood by her side and held her hand, brushed her hair out of her face and whispered soothing words until it calmed her. But the remnants of Elphie's last sleep haunted her, and she spent the rest of the day in a fearsome silence that hung like mist over a dark wood.

Glinda had coaxed her into eating a little, though she had tried to refuse. Did she think her friend an enemy? The very thought seemed to taunt the blonde, deeply bothering her. She spoke to Elphie but green lips did not respond, though they twitched each time the blonde said something thoughtful, and a green head sometimes shook with the frustration of keeping silent. She just couldn't find any words at all.

She was like Dillamond; an Animal that had forgotten how to speak. The very thought had confused Elphie in her school days and she doubted she would ever understand just how someone could forget what they were born doing. This rang all too familiar with her past and gave her pains in her stomach that overshadowed the other pains of weakness and all else.

That night, the fourth night, Glinda closed each and every curtain. She swept the entire apartment, abolishing any cracks that could expose the horrors that were to take place during all of tomorrow.

Elphaba looked so small sitting in the chair by the window, her slight body dwarfed by the magnificent drapes that hung like blue rivers over the windows. Glinda had shut them to keep from upsetting her friend, but green fingers made a spot for curious dark eyes to look out from. "They're celebrating my death." She said, sounding almost amused with the idea.

The blonde did not doubt that if Elphaba were well, she might just have done something to turn the tides on this year's celebration. Her eyes moved back and forth, slow like a pendulum, soaking in every detail that passed by. They seemed to widen as to drink in everything as if she only had a limited time.

She knew she shouldn't have spoke on the matter, but Glinda simply could not keep her mouth shut any longer. Try as she might, words slipped out on their own accord. "But Elphie, you didn't die." Obviously, a very wrong thing to say. "You're not dead."

A small hand came to cover her mouth in shock and fear of the range of possible outcomes her statement may bring. Elphaba turned away from the window suddenly as if the sights outside had burned her eyes. Her fists clenched in her lap and her eyes seemed to darken. "I may as well be." She said bitterly before straining with the effort of pulling herself out of the chair. Using the wall for balance, she left the room, it seemed, as fast as she could possibly move.

All these memories were flying back like her monkeys, gratuitously returning to their master's shelter. But it was unfired! It was unwanted! She clasped her head in her hands and moaned, struggling to forget, fighting her memories.

Glinda walked in soon after; seeing Elphie, leaning all her weight against the far wall, the blonde ran to her. The suffering woman held her head in such a way it appeared that if she were to let go, her brains would burst out of their green cage in one last struggle, a suicide ride.

This seemed all too familiar with their college days; for the blonde pretty girl prying the green recluse for secrets from her past as if history, however tragic, it was just a game to play, just another little secret and that's that. This seemed to mock those days, fierce and taunting, a pointing finger that wouldn't go away, a laughter that would never cease and Elphaba was to blame.

Without an ounce of doubt, Glinda put her arms around Elphaba's now violently trembling form, pulling her tight against her own body, trying to stop her shakes. Together they slid down the wall, sinking towards the ground, no sounds but Glinda's breathing and Elphaba's dry sobs. Her eyes were squeezed so tight - to keep from crying?

Upon hitting the ground, Elphaba let out a long, high pitched wail - it sounded as if she cried 'Fiyeeeeroo,' but Glinda took no time to speculate. She pressed the green body even closer to hers and rocked back and forth, whispering softly,

"Elphie, Elphie, shhh…"

Her voice sounded like a peaceful wind blowing in through the trees and although Glinda was terrified, she managed to keep her voice calm; she only faltered when she breathed, air catching at the back of her throat for a second before she managed to force it down. Elphaba suddenly wrapped her arms around Glinda with the air that she was drowning, and Glinda knew she couldn't let go; not now, not ever.

And then the sobbing stopped, the green body went limp in her arms and the only sound was Glinda's breathing. And then she came crashing down, bursting into tears, sobbing into Elphie's black robes.

When she finally woke up, the room was dark; she and Elphaba still lay in each other's arms. Glinda breathed deeply, looked at the nearly comatose figure pressed so close against her body. She felt comfortable and warm on the floor in the arms of another, a luxury she hadn't experienced in a long time.

Dry tears streaked her cheeks, but Glinda made no move to wipe them away. Instead she reached up and gently ran her hand over Elphaba's head, down that beautiful cascade of black hair that had always been the object of her strongest jealously. Again, and again, she caressed the dark head, not moving anything else, for company if not for warmth.

So they were roomies once again, but so much was different. Glinda did not pretend to ignore Elphaba like the cruel-hearted Galinda had. She hated to remember that she once was that cruel girl that had only helped to alienate the green girl. Back then, Elphaba was nothing more then the green girl because no one would let her get close enough to share even the tiniest smidgeon of information about herself.

Thank goodness she was no longer shallow and ignorant, and that she had grown up to learn about goodness. If not, maybe she and Elphaba would never have become friends, two unlikely friends; Glinda the Good and the Wicked Witch of the West, re-uniting just a few short days before the annual celebration of Oz's lack of wickedness. Irony at it's best.

Finally, the figure in Glinda's arms stirred, eyelids fluttering open, darting around and then shutting again. She breathed in deeply and let it out slowly; Glinda was about to whisper a soft good morning when the other woman surprised her, with what sounded like much effort, and spoke first.

"I waited under the floors for hours, days, for Fiyero. He…he finally came, and we left. Can't leave Oz, but can't stay in it." Her eyes opened, but they stared blankly at the floor, looking glassy and unfocused. Glinda thought her merely babbling, since Fiyero had long since been killed to save Elphaba. "The desert, we stayed there, but together. No one found us, until a storm," Her throat closed up, she shut her eyes and her lips and looked terribly troubled.

"Elphie, what are you saying? Fiyero was dead before that little girl was supposed to have killed you." Glinda found her own eyes filling with tears.

A trembling, green hand came up as the other woman spoke again. "The storm…burned - him. But he wouldn't die." Elphaba's voice now trembled like her hand. She shook her head when Glinda tried to comfort her. "He wouldn't die, and so he burned."

She bowed her head against the wall and her shoulders shook. At her request, Glinda did not touch her, but she sat beside her still on the floor, letting Elphaba's words sink in. Had she, somehow, managed to save Fiyero and run away with him? She did have that broom to fly on, but wasn't it only large enough for one body?

All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and disappear, sob until her tear ducts dried out and reappear to a world where nothing was wrong. But Elphaba needed her, more then ever, sobbing against the wall.

Outside, Glinda could hear the parties in the streets. Emerald City's citizens, all raving drunk, sand and danced each to their own beat and tune. No one was out of rhythm, not even she and Elphaba. Though sober and sobbing, they, too, had something beautiful between them. It was a thin bond of trust that would not be broken, however thin it may appear, for things are never as they appear.