Disclaimer: I still don't own Wicked.

Authoress Note: Thank you so much for reviewing!

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Fiyero grabbed for my hand and called out into the apartment, "Fae?"

Elphaba screamed again, and I only guessed that it was because of the weakness in Fiyero's voice. She then rushed to his side, not even noticing that she knocked me aside.

"Yero, Yero, no, no, no, what happened?" She pressed a firm hand to his side, stopping the bleeding. He cried out in pain.

Another sob escaped me as I answered her question on his behalf. "Elphie, it was the Gale Force. I got here just as they were leaving, they were the ones, they-"

Elphaba suddenly noticed my presence and rounded on me. "You, what are you doing here? Did you have something to do with this? I bet you did! I bet you lead the Gale Force here! HOW DARE YOU!" She slapped me hard across the face, and I was sent spiraling backward onto the hardwood floor.

I sat backed up, my cheek stinging. "Elphie, I would never do something like this! Why would you- Why would I-"

She, even as we knelt on the floor, Elphie still towered over me. Her hazel eyes burned with rage. "You will say no more! NO MORE!" She screamed again, tears for Fiyero rolling quickly down her cheeks. She looked as if her emotions were teetering on the brink of fear, rage and grief. If three emotions can share a single brink, that is.

"Fae, she, she had nothing to do with it." Fiyero rasped in a shaking, weak voice. He seemed to be getting worse by the minute, Elphie not being able to staunch his wound enough. He was loosing too much blood, even I could tell that. And I'm certainly no doctor, I'm just a Good Witch who wears ball gowns mainly and comes and goes by bubble. But, hey someone has to do it, doesn't she?

Elphie held a gentle finger to Fiyero's rapidly bluing lips. "Shh, Yero, sweetheart, don't talk."

I bit my lip, the scene beginning to overwhelm me a bit. Elphie crying, Fiyero dying, and me just sitting here, a blubberifying mess. A clap of thunder sounded from outside, following a flash of lightning. In the illuminification, I saw Elphie's normally harsh features, and how they'd softened. Also in the split second of light, the gravity of the situation became even heavier. I saw just how much red covered most of the small, though nonetheless large enough, apartment, and felt like I was going to toss my cookies. My suspicions (and Elphie's) were confirmed. Fiyero was too far-gone already to survive, too badly injured.

Unless…

Sobs were racking Elphie and I when I got the most brilliant idea that my blonde brain had ever gotten. Maybe that old saying was right, you are truly at your finest during life's hardest moments.

"Glinda had nothing to do with any-anything." Fiyero managed, whimpering in pain. "Fae, please," He gasped for a breath. "L-listen to me."

She gripped his hand in her free hand, and sobbed openly, as did I. "Oh, Yero, of course. Yero, I love you."

"I know." He rasped. "I love you." He said, and I could have sworn that he looked at…me? For a split second. No, no way, he was looking at Elphie. Not at me.

Fiyero's eyes slowly closed, and his breathing became even shallower.

Elphaba screamed his name into the relative darkness, and another lightning strike was followed by a loud crash of a stricken tree falling in the distance, and suddenly, as if by some unknown, subconscious magic, every candle in the room was lit. She took Fiyero in her arms, holding his close to her. "Yero, Yero, Yero my hero…" She muttered over and over again.

I took a deep, somewhat sobering breath, trying to collect my nerves in vain as Elphie gently laid Fiyero back down on the aged floor. His shirt was savagely ripped and torn in too many places, revealing even more deep, horrid wounds, bruises and welts, and for a second, I couldn't tell if he was still breathing. I stared intently, my eyes wide, brimming with crystalline tears, but thankfully I saw the slight upward and then downward movement.

I touched Elphaba's elbow gingerly. She didn't turn to me, she just kept sobbing over Fiyero, unconscious now, probably in shock from the physical trauma (wow, that sounded doctor-y), crying quietly, every now and then sniffling back even more tears.

"Elphie?" I asked quietly. A beat. "Elphie?"

"What?"

"Elphie, you," the words caught in my throat, I swallowed down another growing lump of tears. "You can save him, can't you?" I paused. "With magic or a spell, or something? Can't you save him? Please, Elphie, at least try!"

She was suddenly on her feet, the bottom of her long black skirts dragging in Fiyero's blood, digging through spell books, knocking yellowed parchment bound in weather-worn cloths of all colors, to the ground, each landing with a resounding thud. She grabbed one, bound, ironically, in an emerald green covering, and began chanting in a language that was foreign to me.

"Elekah Nahmen, Nahmen, Ah Tum, Ah Tum, Elekah Nahmen.

Elekah Nahmen, Nahmen, Ah Tum, Ah Tum, Elekah Nahmen,

Let his flesh not be torn,

Let his blood leave no stain,

Though they beat him,

Let him feel no pain!

Let his bones never break,

And however they try to destroy him,

Let him never die,

Let him never die!"

Elphaba was spellificying at the top of her lungs, but nothing seemed to be happening. She kept going until her voice finally cracked.

"Elphie," I called softly, "I don't think it's working."

"Shut up!" She shrieked at me. "It has to work! I have to save him!

Elekah Nahmen, Nahmen, Ah Tum, Ah Tum, Elekah Nahmen…" Her spellificyinggave way to sobs. "Fiyero…"

For a moment, we just sat in silence, and I turned my attention to the slow and shaky rise and fall of Fiyero's chest. He was still breathing. That was good. Amazing, but good. Great. Amazing. I felt more tears find themselves running down my cheeks.

"Maybe a different spell?" I offered, "Maybe something a little less preventive and a little more active?"

Elphaba sank to the floor, the spell book still clamped in her emerald hands. "Like what?" She asked me through tears. "Like what!"

I bit my lip, "I don't know Elphaba! You're the Witch, not me!"

She rounded on me again. "Well, then why do you call yourself Glinda the Good Witch?"

"Well, fine, I might be a Witch, but I'm nowhere near as powerful as you!" I spat back before I realized what I was saying. Well, who cares, it's the truth. I took a deep breath, attempting to calm my…temper?

"Elphie, just listen to me. Try something else, please! We just can't let Fiyero die because we're giving up hope! I'll, I'll," I clambered to my feet, and began tearing through the pile of spell book. "I'll help! We can do this Elphie, we can do this! We can save him!"

She sat in silence as I scurried around. "Well, are you coming Elphie?" I asked.

"You don't understand Galinda." Galinda? No one's called me Galinda in over three years. Not since that day at the train station, the day I made my first big girl, grown up decision. The decision to change my name out of protest, and the decision to not follow in Elphaba's footsteps, the decision to become who I am today.

"Galinda, I don't have any of those spells here. There all at the castle."

"Castle?"

"Kiam Ko. It's Fiyero's family's-"

"Other castle that no one ever uses." I finished her sentence, having heard all of this myself from Fiyero himself. He'd told me so long ago, well, alright, not that long, actually only about three years ago, while we were at Shiz. All of us, Fiyero and I, and Elphie and Bick and Nessarose. Who in Oz's name would have ever thought that we would end up like this? Elphaba in tears, me actually being the strong one for once, and Fiyero on the brink of death. Bick and Nessa? Oz only knows. The last thing I heard was that Elphaba and Nessa's father, the governor of Munchkinland, was ill, and since Elphie's not in line to take over if her father should become incapacitated beyond the point of no longer being able to lead the Munchkins, Nessa was preparing for a…regime change. And Bick? I just assumed that he was still with her. After all she did love him with all her heart, and any small joy in Nessarose's life was a blessing from the Unnamed God.

"I'm so sorry Yero." Elphaba said in almost a whisper. Her shoulders were shaking violently, and tears burned down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you."

Anger suddenly rose in me. And I'm Glinda the Good so anger isn't an emotion that I feel very often. "You're giving up Elphaba?"

"What else can we do for him?"

"The Wicked Witch of the West is giving up." It wasn't a question. It was a statement, a declaration. I was calling her out. "You're giving up. You might talk a big game, Green Girl, but underneath all of that," dare I say it? "That Wicked façade, you're really no bolder than I am. You're just going to let the man you love more than anything in this world die because you are a defeatist. You are so pessimistic that you're going to sacrifice Fiyero's life because you think that you can't save him." I looked her straight in the eye. "Elphaba, Madame Morrible was right. You are Wicked."

Oh my Oz. Did I just say that? What is coming over me? I'm like someone else. Like I've been changed for good. Who can say if I've been changed for the better, but I know that I have been changed for good.

Another silence fell, and I began to worry. We had to get Fiyero to a doctor, or find a suitable spell, soon, or he was going to…

I couldn't think it, let alone say it.

"The castle." She said.

"What?"

"A, a transportation spell!" She was suddenly vivacious, eurekafied. "If we can get Fiyero to Kiamo Ko, I can find a spell in my books there, maybe in the Grimmerie! We can cast the spell together, and we can save him! Glinda, we can save Fiyero!"

There's the Elphie that I know.

"Go with him Glinda, I'll come by broom. I won't be long." She began chanting something that I didn't understand once again. Blue sparks began flitting around the apartment, and the strangest feeling came over me, like I was underwater, I couldn't catch my breath, and finally I heard Elphie spellificying a spell that I'd heard before, on that day when we first met the Wizard:

"Ahven Tatey, Aven Tatey, Aven Ah May Ah Tay Atum

Ah May Ah Tah Tay May Tu Se Say Ta!"

The sparks engulfed me, blocking Elphie, and the apartment from view.

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I suddenly felt cold stone underneath my rear end, and blinked a few times, attempting to make sense of where I was.

Taking a deep breath, I looked around. Dust hung thick on regal tapestries and gilt banisters. I was in a castle. Kiam Ko. In a bedroom. Fiyero lay on the bed, the white sheets rapidly being wetted with blood.

I pinched the bridge of my nose to attempt to ward off a coming headache, and sat on a nearby chair that was pulled up at Fiyero's bedside. I felt for a pulse at his wrist, and was met with a faint, fleeting beat. Thank goodness. I leaned forward and gently kissed his cold, blue lips.

Fiyero's dark eyes slowly fluttered open once again. "Galinda?" He rasped.

I took his hand in mine; he gripped it as tightly as he could in his condition. "I'm here Fiyero. I'm right here."

"Galinda, I think I'll miss you most of all."

Huh? "What?"

"Galinda," he shivered as if a great pain went through him, "Galinda, I don't have much time left-"

"Don't say that Fiyero!"

"Please, just hear me out. Galinda, I still love you."

What?

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Authoress Note: Okie Dokie, please keep Reading and reviewing!

Next chapter up soon.