Chapter 1:

Dorothy told me that when I have a thought I should write it down. It would helpful if I knew how to write and yet I do. It's hard to believe that one without a brain could even have a thought or a scarecrow without organs, skins, veins, or anything else could hurt. Still every time I close my eyes something just, well, pops in there. So it's not impossible. The funny thing is that the pictures in my head, they are nothing like anything I ever seen before. In these thoughts, I'm always in a place surrounded by trees and I'm running. But I'm not alone. I can hear another voice, a woman, but I can't understand her. I can also hear my self answering her but I can't understand my own voice. All this thinking is hurting my head. I don't want to think till I have my brain. I guess when the Wiz gives me my brain I will be able to think without it hurting. And I'll be able to understand what these thoughts mean. Is it just a dream or is there really someone I have to get back to? My head is hurting again, again so let me talk about something else.

The witch has been about again, but she hasn't done anything. She just keeps circling around on that broom of hers. She is pretty nimble on that thing, comes from years of practice I guess. Where do you go to learn to be a witch? Witch Academy? I haven't said anything because it's not worth it to worry Dorothy about. Not that the witch wouldn't be something to worry about. Frankly I don't feel like telling her really. All she seems to talk about is getting back to Kansas anyway that and seeing the wizard. She hasn't said anything about my brain yet, not since we first met anyway. That is a little selfish if you ask me. But she told me that I could go with her and some company is better then no company. Not like I have much else to do right?

All this witch stuff actually didn't get weird until last night, the night that I talked with the Witch. Okay, now don't get me wrong, I still think she is wicked, evil, and sort of scary. But last night I sort of…talked with her and she isn't as bad as I thought. Kind of like when a kid turns on a light and finds that his monsters were only piles of clothes.

It happened when we, Dorothy (plus one yappy dog) and I, stopped to rest in a forest. I was happy because my head wasn't hurting as much anymore and Dorothy had stopped talking. My head hurts enough from trying to figure out that thought that keeps popping up; I don't need all this talking from this girl to make it hurt more. My ears should be bleeding from all this yammering, although I don't doubt scarecrows have ears, eardrums, or even blood. So there I was, just lying down and looking up at the sky and then the witch flew over us, making a silhouette on the moon. It was almost lovely in a scary sort of way as she became a black image against the silvery moon. Then my eyes started to close as I just wanted to rest a bit. I don't need sleep but it is fine for me to take a break once and a while just to give my self time to reflect, which leads to more thinking. I guess rest isn't all that good but I'm going off topic. As my eyes were slowly drifting closed I caught the sight of the Witch drifting downwards and landing somewhere not far from where Dorothy and I were 'resting'. It took a moment for my head (with no brain) to make me realize that this was very wrong!

The wicked witch was going to catch us with a surprise attack, I just knew it! Kill us when we weren't prepared! It would be a rather good plan. She was a pretty smart witch after all. I had to do something! I don't know why I went alone but I figured there was once again no reason to have her talking again. Besides, I'm the stupid one. Why would I think of calling for back up?

My first thought (a little one so it didn't hurt as much), was to take it slow. Don't need to trip over my feet and alert the witch to my arrival. I have big straw feet you understand, no good for walking…or for dancing. Why does that come to mind? Anyway as I snuck up on her I found that she wasn't plotting anything or she didn't look like she was plotting. No actually she was doing something rather- Unwitch like. I mean I've never seen a witch cry, but I can't remember seeing or know anything about witches. I do remember distinctly that I heard once that witches melt when hit with water. Maybe witches don't cry tears? Maybe they cry blood or some other liquid. Maybe they cry soda but I think that has water in it to.

I wanted to get closer, to see if I really was right, and wouldn't you know it…I tripped. Not only tripped but fell right into her view. I told you I had two really big feet! She instantly jumped up and in the moonlight I could see the tears coming from her eyes. They were indeed like water, wet and dampening her face in two long dark green trails. She didn't have the type of face I think I had imagined her with, she wasn't ugly or old, or even man like. Actually she was quiet lovely, and in some ways, beautiful. A sort of unique beauty that other girls don't have in the least (least of all Dorothy or even Glinda, they are all the same). I have no idea what made me think that but in my chest something was thumping hard.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" she nearly screamed as I tried desperately to get to my feet.

"I was…I was…" I stumbled

She circled round me and I knew I was soon going to be a pile of kindling. "I should burn you to the ground! Then I should send that little girlfriend of yours packing! Oh you little do-gooder-popular cookie cutter are all alike! Coming to hunt the witch and take her back to be executed while taking the only thing that meant anything to me! It's all because of you that my life is like this! It is all your fault!"

That statement hit home for me and I frowned (which is more like a weird freaky happy frown as my lips are painted upwards although my mouth points down). "Wait a minuet!" I said finally getting my voice, in a moment of annoyance rather then anger, "We are not the cause for your being mean and-"

"Go ahead!" she cackled, "I dare you to say it! I just dare you!"

"WICKED!" I took her dare and she instantly had a fireball in her hand. I was going to die. But I was feeling brave. I guess brainlessness has some good points, you don't know to be afraid of something or you are but you don't always 'think' to run away. Not that I had to be afraid because after a moment she paused and sighed. I could see the tears fall from her eyes as the pounding in my chest became painful. What would be in there to beat so hard? It felt like it was going to knock right through all that straw.

"Look," she said softly, calmer and holding back the anger, "Just leave, I promise I won't do anything if you just leave me alone to my grief." The witch then sat down on the stump again and began to cry softly. This made my own actions feel rather 'wicked'. It's like Dorothy said, no one is exempt from grief and she, the witch, had just lost her sister. I guess she has her own problems that I didn't even think of (not that you could blame me for not thinking). I don't know what made me approach, but I had no fear as I stepped forward and once again took in her once in a lifetime beauty. She looked up at me, her green eyes brimming with tears. "Please," she begged through the tears, "I just want to be alone…as I am forever alone…"

" Um' I will …But first, I just wanted to say, that I guess I was being a little mean," I told her, "I mean, I know we are 'sort of' the cause for what happened, although who could drop a house on someone…"

"That's not what I'm mad about," the witch answered, in a soft voice, "I know that wasn't her fault." She paused as if remembering who she was talking to. "But why am I telling you! You will never believe me. You've bought into the propaganda and the lies too! You are as brainless as the rest of those popularity-grubbing people! So why complain to you? You don't care!" She stood up, turning her back on me and fixing her hat.

"Well I don't know if I'll believe you," I said taking a seat in front of her, "But I am a relatively good listener, I listen to Dorothy all the time and she can talk a lot. So maybe it will make you feel better if you tell me."

"Why would it be?" she said coldly, "You don't care!"

"But you are crying and you're hurt! As anyone with a heart knows you should help someone who is crying!"

"You're a scarecrow," she said with a scowl, "You don't have a brain or a heart!"

"Please!" I begged, putting out my lips in my best puppy dog pout. If not for her then to stop this beating in my chest.

"I don't know…" the witch began wiping the tears with the back of her hand. From my pocket I produced a handkerchief that I guess someone had put there before I can remember. I handed it to her with a smile on my face.

"Well for one night lets pretend that I'm not the scarecrow and you're not the wicked witch, and we met on the road and just started talking. So what do you say?"

She paused for a moment, looking at me with eyes that were unsure. "You promise not to argue with me about my beliefs or what I say and you leave me alone afterwards?" There was a little exasperation in her voice, as if I had annoyed her into submission.

"I swear on all the straw packed inside my head, that I will be the most intent listener you have ever met!" I told her, "And maybe we can help each other, you never know right?"

She nodded and for a moment I could have sworn I caught a smile. "Well, I guess I should start at the beginning then since you won't remember any of this…First my real name isn't really the Wicked Witch of the West as everyone seems content on calling me. My name is Elphaba and my father was a leader in Munchkin land…"

And so started my lessons in the history of the wicked witch, and yet I felt like I already knew it all. I learned all about the Shiz, meeting Glinda (or Galinda as it was originally), and the reason behind the ruby slippers. All the while I was actually really comfortable listening to the story and even more comfortable sitting with the witch. For once we weren't enemies but just two people talking. As we reached the end of the story, I learned about Fieyro and she had to pause a couple times to rub away the tears. Losing this Fieyro was the worst thing for her and as she cried I felt the tightness in my chest. Even the brainless know that losing a lover can be tough on anyone, especially for one who would have very little love in her life. And yet that name seems oddly familiar.

"…And that is how I got here, with you," she ended the story with a small smile, "Now I feel relieved, you don't know how good that was to get that all off my chest even if it is to an object rather then a person."

"Well it sure was a lot," I answered with a grin letting the insult slide, "But I'm really sorry about your family and your love. I guess I didn't think about it till now that you may have had a hard time."

"Well no one thinks about the person going against the regime that slanders her name till she is no longer even-"

"You mean the wizard?"

"I mean the fraud who calls himself the wizard," she answered coolly, "I'm sorry but I can never accept that man for a wizard ever again. Not even if he had magical powers…"

"What?"

"Nothing, it's pointless in telling you."

"I can live with that," I said, "We can't all love him I suppose. So are you really friends with Miss Glinda?"

"We USE to be friends," she said looking away, "But I hardly think she could be my friend after what has happened with Fiyero and the Wizard…"

"But if she really is your friend then she will try and understand. It would be horrible to lose such a close friends just because of a world that is cruel to you." This time I really did get a smile and a small laugh out of her.

"Your right, and with me it is not easy to make friends." She paused looking towards the east. "It's getting close to morning, you should start getting back. Don't want anyone thinking that I have done anything to you or you've joined up with me?"

"Why?" I asked quickly, "Don't want to associate with a brainless fool?"

"No, that's not it," she answered standing, "if they were to think that you were with me they would all turn against you and it wouldn't be a pretty picture, you got me? Besides, I'm not in the need of having anyone else on my team. I work alone, got it?"

"Yes I think I do," I said, fallowing her in standing (amazingly without tripping), "So I guess this is goodbye then."

"'Um yeah," she said unsure yet again, "You won't tell anyone about this? If you do I will deny it all! From now on, you go back to being the stupid lackey to that shoe stealing wit- girl and I go back to being the 'evil' girl trying to get those shoes back, okay?" I couldn't help but smile myself.

"I wouldn't have it any other way…"

Author notes: Well what can I say; I do like this story for some reason. I've decided that this one is going to continue and I hope you all give me some constructive reviews about my work because I really do like this story now. I just think it's something that isn't always addressed. I mean why did Elphaba think that Fieyro was dead and then know at the end of the play that he wasn't. I know the reason but taken the actions in the movie why would it have happened like that? Just something I was thinking about. Hope you still like it even if it is nuts...

-Watson

Author notes (11/23/05): Finally finished the next update. It took a long time but I got it done. I've now seen the musical and know about the letter that tells Elphaba Fieyro being alive. But I will address this later, this story is now about the 'what if'. What if things from the movie were apart of the musical? What if Fieyro couldn't remember his own name after the transformation?

Another thing I've addressed was why Elphaba would tell the scarecrow her past, as was a question from one of the reviews the first time around. It was mostly to get him off her back and to leave her alone. You will also notice that there is a lot of Dorothy bashing but I am only going by my own feelings on the character. Young, naïve, and talks too much. I hope you all still are reading and liking this because I like your reviews and am always in need of them

-Watson