Author's Note: Just so everyone knows…this is my favorite chapter to date. It's very long and…I really think you'll like it. So enjoy! Cuz there's more evilness coming soon. ::cackles::

Chapter 9

Glinda carefully tore a piece of burlap out of one of the emptied food sacks and wrapped it around the large gash on Elphaba's hand.

"That's going to get infected if you don't at least try to clean it," said Glinda timidly. The battle had already severely tried her nerves, and she certainly didn't want to spark a fight with Elphaba.

Elphaba turned and gave her a menacing glare.

"Good," she said darkly. "I deserve it."

"Well really, Elphie," said Glinda in exasperation. "I don't see what point there is in beating yourself over this. It's quite simple, really. You've just got to stop doing things you'll regret."

The fight had ended perhaps as well as possible. Everyone had escaped alive, although Fiyero remained unconscious, and there was no sign of Chistery, although he had been seen escaping in one piece.

Elphaba laughed bitterly.

"Simple for you, perhaps. If you do nothing all the time, you can be sure you'll have no regrets."

Glinda shrugged.

"That's one way to look at it, I suppose. Elphie, what you did was stupid, there's no question about that. But there's no harm done, really. I mean, those-those things are gone for now and I'm sure Fiyero will be all right once he wakes up—"

"Stop!" cried Elphaba, jerking her hand away roughly. "You don't understand anything that happened today. The tiktoks may be gone for now, but you can be sure they'll be back. And in force. Now they know we're here. We'll have to find a new hiding place, not to mention that we're almost completely out of supplies."

Elphaba went over to the couch and sat down, then picked up the Grimmerie and began rifling through it feverishly. Glinda stood looking on in curiosity.

"You can read that," she said finally, "Can't you?"

Elphaba looked up thoughtfully, as though deciding whether or not to answer honestly.

"Yes," she answered at last," Most of it. But it's constantly changing. And even if I could read all of it, I'd never be able to use it to any effect. Not that I'd even try." Her voice softened noticeably. "I just…don't want to do any more harm than I already have."

"Elphie…"

"No." said Elphaba firmly. "I refuse to talk about this any more."

"If you don't at least try to talk about it, how do you expect anything to get better?"

Elphaba sighed and shook her head dejectedly.

"I don't. At least…not for me. I'm ruined, Glinda, my death is inevitable. I've been lucky so far…but then I always believed luck was some cruel trick of fate. A way to get a person's spirits up before crushing them entirely."

Glinda stared at her in shock, eyes stinging with tears.

"Elphie, please don't talk like that…it isn't true; it can't be."

Just then, Boq strode in, muttering something to himself, and stopped short at the sight of them.

"Is everything all right?" he asked worriedly.

"Just peachy, thanks," muttered Elphaba.

Boq looked back and forth between the two of them, then shook his head and walked back out. Elphaba sighed and massaged her temples vigorously.

"I don't know what to do anymore," she said. Her voice sounded tired, broken. Glinda went over and put a hand on Elphaba's shoulder.

"Then don't think about it right now. Get some sleep, Elphie, you look awful."

Elphaba stiffened at the suggestion.

"I can't. I have to wait and make sure—"

Glinda smiled knowingly.

"He's all right, I promise. Go to bed, I'll send him to you when he wakes up."

The room was lit by a single torch, burning low. Fiyero stopped for a moment in the doorway, content just to watch her sleep. Elphaba was sprawled out across the bed, the single blanket tangled around her legs as though she'd been fighting a secret battle in her dreams. The torch light cast strange shadows all over the room, and for a moment he saw a flash of Elphaba lying asleep in her store room in the Emerald City, her body glowing softly in the moonlight spilling down from the skylight. She'd seemed happy then, he thought sadly, though never peaceful.

Fiyero walked over to the bed and shook her gently, knowing that if he didn't, he'd pay dearly for it in the morning. She woke with a slight start, then looked drowsily up at him, propping herself up on one elbow. For a moment he thought he'd reached her, but then she closed off again, the shift as apparent as a physical transformation.

"Glinda said you wanted to see me," said Fiyero, suddenly feeling awkward.

Elphaba nodded slowly, her face a deliberate mask of indifference. Fiyero had the sudden urge to yell at her, to scream, to force her to let him in. He pushed it away, knowing in his heart that such an attempt would only make things worse.

"Yes," said Elphaba, "I'll assume from the fact that you're here that you're all right."

He sat on the edge of the bed, surprised when she didn't protest.

"I am. Although I'm probably going to regret this in the morning." He rubbed his shoulder and winced slightly.

She didn't respond and Fiyero sighed deeply, hating the silence that hung like a shroud in the air between them.

"And you?" he asked finally.

"What?"

"Are you all right?"

Elphaba nodded curtly.

"I did not sustain any serious injuries."

Fiyero sighed again, hating the flatness of her tone, the clipped pattern of her words.

"I didn't mean it like that." He took her injured hand and held it between both of his, wincing at the coldness of her skin. "You look terrible, Elphie. Anyone can see that you're hurting."

She eyed him warily, and Fiyero knew that his words had reached her at least on some level.

"What do you want from me?" asked Elphaba, her voice hard and accusing.

"I want you to forgive yourself," he answered quickly, "Nothing more until you're ready. Listen to me, Fabala, I know you asked Sarima to forgive you. I'm releasing you now. Let it go."

Elphaba stared at him in astonishment.

"You…you knew? How?"

Fiyero cleared his throat and took a deep breath, surprised at the intensity of the hurt he felt, even after eight years.

"You said it yourself. The Wizard wasn't above torturing friends or family member to get information. And all prisoners of the Gale Force end up in the same place. But that's enough of that," he said firmly, swallowing, "Now you have to promise me you'll stop trying to punish yourself. It's killing you, Elphie, don't think I can't see that."

She stared at him for nearly a full minute before she replied.

"Why?" she asked coldly, "Why should it matter if it is?"

"I love you," said Fiyero, but Elphaba remained unmoved.

"I don't believe in love," she snapped.

"Then what do you believe in?" he shot back, frustrated.

"I believe in one thing and one thing only: The inevitability of being broken by life, of having one's dreams ruined. There's no point in trying. Wishing only leads to hurt."

Fiyero sat in utter silence, struck dumb by the bitterness of her words and the hurt in her voice. He saw, for the first time, how very much she'd changed in the time they'd been apart. Or maybe he'd never truly known her at all, Fiyero thought, tears stinging at the back of his eyes.

"If that's true, then why did you ask Glinda to make me come talk to you tonight? If that's what you really believe, then why did you come all the way out here to seek forgiveness?"

Elphaba didn't, couldn't answer him. Instead she squeezed her eyes shut against what Fiyero knew were tears, dabbing at them with the edge of the blanket and hissing softly with pain. Fiyero swung his legs up onto the side of the bed, wincing slightly as the bandages on his shoulder pulled, so that he was lying beside her, and took her in his arms. To his surprise, she didn't push him away this time. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, shivering violently. Fiyero rocked her like a small child, running his hands over her back in slow circles.

"Promise," he whispered into the silky darkness of her hair.

"I'll promise to try," she whispered finally, her voice harsh with repressed tears, "And that is all I'll give you for now."

"All right," he agreed, then kissed her, gently, passionately. She moaned softly and pressed herself against him.

"Listen," Fiyero said suddenly, "we live in a world where almost nothing is certain anymore. But I know one thing for sure. If you live your life without love, you'll hurt all the time."

Elphaba didn't answer. She ran her hands up under his shirt, sending an explosion of sensation through him that left him gasping for breath.

"Elphie," he choked out, but she put a finger to his lips.

"I know," she said softly. She started to unbutton his shirt, but he stopped her, his hands suddenly trembling.

"What is it?" asked Elphaba, her brow wrinkled with concern.

"I…um…the Gale Forcers left me with a few 'souvenirs' of my time in their service." He pulled off his shirt finally and she gasped at the multitude of scars covering his chest and back.

"Fiyero…"

He kissed her before she could say anything more, afraid of her words.

"Sh…it's over now."

Elphaba reached out and traced the scars, first with her fingers, then with her lips, as though trying to erase them. Fiyero bit his lip to stifle a cry at her touch. The only physical contact he'd had in the last fifteen years had been the brutal beatings the Gale Forcers had administered each time he'd tried to escape.

Elphaba pulled the blanket back over them and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"You know…" he murmured, "For someone who doesn't believe in love…"

"I know. I…don't know what I believe." She tightened her arms about his waist. "I love you, Yero, I'm just so afraid I'm going to lose you again."

He took her hand again and kissed it gently.

"I know. But all we can trust is the here and now. And right here, right now, we're together. And someday soon maybe we'll be able to trust tomorrow a little more too."

"Someday soon," she repeated drowsily, her voice containing just a hint of sarcasm, "Can't be soon enough for me."

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