Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Authoress Note: What do you guys think of Dr. Bick?
What do you think of my G(a)linda characterization? Fiyero? Elphie?
Also, this chapter is very, VERY short, but the next one will be up very, VERY soon.
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My voice was going to go hoarse from all the screaming. "What are you going to do to him?" It was more of an accusation, not so much a question.
Elphie's words began swarming and angry-mobbing in my head. He loves you, Glinda. Was it stupid of us to trust Bick? Could he have some hidden agenda? Even if it wasn't over me, maybe it could be revenge at Elphie for turning him into tin, for Oz's sake? Or maybe, in some subconscious, indirectional way, a slap in the face to Nessa for taking his heart, literally. Did Bick really have it in him to murder Fiyero out of vengeance? Was he really going to murder Fiyero, or was I just overreacting?
The look on Elphaba's face told me that, once again, I was overreacting.
"Look, just get me a bottle of red wine, one of you, please!" Bick answered. "If I don't get that piece of bone out of his lung, stop the bleeding and repair the damage incredibly soon, Fiyero will die! Do you hear me? Die! Is that what you two want?"
I didn't even answer him, I just ran off toward the wine cellar.
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I tripped off of the last step, and landed with a crash. I scraped my left elbow, but I didn't even realize it until a few minutes later as I was tossing bottle after bottle of white wine over my shoulder, frantically searching for a bottle of red. Each one shattered onto the concrete floor, smashing into a bagillion pieces.
I finally found one, and took off up the stairs once again, my high heels crunching on the glass and liquor beneath my feet.
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I burst through Fiyero's bedroom door to find the most horrific scene yet. Elphaba was straddling Fiyero, the heel of her hand pressing into his chest, and she would pump down every second or so. After three pumps, she would lean forward and breath for him, mouth to mouth. Bick was frantically searching through his bag, looking for Oz knows what.
I vaguely remembered something called cardio-pulmonary resuscitation, or CPR, from the emergency classes at Shiz, but you only did that when the injured person had stopped breathing…
Sweet Oz.