It was a loud crash that woke Elphaba up from her sleep. That and the sensation of a body collapsing on top of her own.
"Glinda," the green girl sighed in irritation as she was yanked out of a pleasant, dreamless sleep. Her roommate could be so annoying.
"Hi Elphie," Glinda said timidly. Another loud crash and, this time, a yelp. Glinda practically burrowed herself into Elphaba's bed.
"Don't tell me you're scared of a little thunderstorm?" Elphaba was shocked and skeptical. She simply could not see one as headstrong and overly concerned about personal image as Glinda being frightened by a little storm. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated Glinda's face. She looked absolutely terrified. Ok, so maybe Elphaba was wrong. The green girl smirked, glad that flashes of lightning did not last long. The darkness concealed her amusement from her roommate.
"Ok, come here!" Elphaba tried to clear the amusement from her voice as well as she repositioned herself so that Glinda could fit on the bed. It took a bit of wiggling, but the two girls finally managed to settle themselves side by side in that one little bed. Glinda looked miserable, and ashamed.
"Oh, Elphie, I'm sorry I woke you! I wish I wasn't such a coward!" she cried, then another crash and flash filled their dorm room. Glinda jumped on reflex and another soft little yelp tore itself from her throat. She looked even more embarrassed the second time.
"There, there, my sweet," Elphaba tried again not to laugh. "There's nothing to fear. You know I would never let anything hurt you," she tried to promise, then she carefully wrapped her arms around Glinda. It was said that every rule had an exception and in the case of Elphaba's unspoken rule against physical contact, Glinda was the exception. Elphaba's hatred of seeing Glinda in pain was stronger than her general hatred of humanity and physical touch and her desire to comfort Glinda overrode her desire to be left alone. She hated to see the usually bubbly girl so worked up. "And by the way, you are not a coward," Elphaba added forcefully, squeezing Glinda a little as she said this.
For a third time, a lion's roar of thunder billowed around the dorm room as a jagged bolt of lightning illuminated the sky over Shiz. Glinda managed not to jump or shriek, but Elphaba felt her grip tighten.
"Why do storms frighten you, my sweet?" Elphaba whispered into Glinda's hair as Glinda's grip slowly, slowly loosened up again. It was simple, honest curiosity and not a desire for future blackmail that made Elphaba ask. She was still surprised, however, when Glinda did decide to reply. This question, after all, had been very private and personal and required Glinda to confess a weakness, a perceived flaw. That was something a perfectionist like her almost never did. But every rule had its exception, and in the case of Glinda's refusal to ever appear as anything less than perfect and in-the-know, Elphaba was the exception.
"It all started when I was just a child," Glinda confessed. "I had gone to play in the fields behind my mansion. It was good fun for awhile, but then the storm clouds rolled in... I couldn't find my way home! I had strayed too far and there was no one to ask and I was so small that I couldn't go or see very far in time to outrun the storm. I got stuck right in the thick of it! Me, a 10-year-old girl, lost alone in a cornfield with no one to talk to except a few scarecrows who ended up all getting washed away in the storm. It was horrendifying!" Glinda paused to shudder and Elphaba's inner jerk fought the urge to remind Glinda that "horrendifying" was not a word. It seemed common, within Ozian linguistics, to sometimes mash words up to sound smarter. Frankly, Elphaba found it amusing at best and annoying at worst, but now was not the time to remark upon such sentiments. Glinda had begun to speak again.
"So there I was, lost and alone in a massive cornfield with an explosion of a storm raging on above my little head!" Glinda sounded almost indignant now, as though offended by the storm itself. As if on cue, another thunderclap shook the dorm and Glinda's indignance quickly turned back into fear. "I had no idea where I was or if I would ever see home again because the storm was so big! It was so loud and violent! The wind thrashed as hard as a whip and the raindrops were practically like little ice-daggers, cold and sharp. The lightning was even brighter and closer than it is tonight and the pitch black day turned brighter than the sun every time it streaked across the sky!"
Glinda continued her vivid description, getting more and more worked up as she did so.
"I even remember, at one point, something hitting me right over the head!" she cried. "Right here..." she gestured to the back of her head, to where the occipital lobe of her brain would be. "I don't know if it was part of a scarecrow or a stalk of corn or even a stone from somewhere out in the field, I just know it hurt so bad and it made my vision blurry. Well, blurrier. I was scared, I screamed and I cried, but no one heard. No one came to rescue me..." Glinda trailed off, actually sounding quite heartbroken, like it was the very first time in her life when she realized that sometimes, there was no Fairy Queen Lurline or dearest, darlingest Momsie and Popsicle who could come and save her.
"Finally, I just collapsed. I just gave up, right then and there, so sure that I was going to die out there in that storm and that no one would ever know. I was terrified that even my body would be blown away and that Momsie and Popsicle would never ever find me again, that they would never see me, their little girl, ever again, not even in the next life. It was afraid of being swept away to a whole other world, dying far away from home and away from the ones I loved, but I didn't dare take a single step any further, so I just collapsed there, right in the middle of the cornfield, and I waited until the storm would finally, finally end..."
Glinda trailed off and she didn't need to say anything else for Elphaba to mentally finish the story. No doubt, Glinda survived the initial downpour until it got quiet enough for her to attempt a journey home. Whether she had to go the entire thing alone or whether someone finally came looking for her was unknown to Elphaba, but she did not think it appropriate to ask. Hadn't Glinda divulged enough secrets for now? Did Elphaba have an right to dare and ask for more? It was a rare day for Glinda to admit any weakness and practically unheard of for it to be one so poignant to her. Elphaba respected Glinda deeply in that moment, for having the courage to tell Elphaba the truth even after Elphaba had initially scored her for being afraid of storms. Elphaba bitterly regretted her actions now.
"Oh, Glinda. I'm so sorry, I didn't realize..." Elphaba mumbled. What a lame excuse! Hadn't she always scored those who would say things like, "I didn't realize"? And now here she was, using the very same remark.
"No, it's ok. No one ever does," Glinda sounded miserable. Not scared or disillusioned, just the same way Elphaba did whenever someone asked how she felt when people made fun of her for having green skin. There was a note of resignation in the way Glinda spoke and Elphaba was repulsed by it. She did not just hate herself anymore, she hated anyone else who might've ever made fun of Glinda for having the fears that she did, making fun of her to the point that she would just stand down and take it. Glinda shouldn't have had to justify anything to anyone, and yet she did, even to Elphaba. Elphaba felt rotten and she began to wonder just how many other scars Glinda might be hiding under a pearly smile and golden curls.
"That's no excuse," Elphaba told both herself and the girl curled up in her arms. "I feel terrible for hurting you and making fun of you the way I did and I want to make it up to you. Would you like to sleep with me tonight?"
"Sleep with you?" Glinda asked with a weak smile.
"Glinda! I'm being serious here!" Elphaba whined, thanking Oz that the lightning had paused long enough to conceal her black blush.
"Elphie? Being serious? No!" Glinda pretended to sound shocked and Elphaba wanted to get offended that Glinda was using her own sarcastic, snarky, deadpanning humor against her when she realized that hey, wait a minute, if Glinda was using humor... then she wasn't as scared now!
"You're absolutely wicked, you know that?" Elphaba quirked and eyebrow as she looked down on her smaller roommate.
"Oh, no, Ms. Thropp," Glinda pretended to admonish. "I am practically perfect in every way!" she gave a toss-toss of her golden curls only for a roll of thunder to sound off. Glinda jumped again and her face fell once more. "Ok. Maybe not in every way..." she muttered sadly.
"Nonsense," Elphaba frowned, silently cursing the thunder. Usually, she liked the strong and mysterious, aloof and distant chaos of a storm, but not tonight, not when it was scaring her sweet Glinda. "You're still perfect to me. You are so brave..."
"Well, coming from a green bean, that doesn't mean much," Glinda chuckled weakly. Elphaba smiled sadly down at her. Poor girl, still trying so hard to be brave. Didn't she know she was already so very courageous all on her own? Had it not been Glinda who first stood up for Elphaba? Had it not been Glinda to first challenge the social norm of things? Had it not been Glinda who publicly told off a circle of rich elite friends for being bullies? How could Glinda not think she was brave? She was. She was so brave.
"It may not mean much," Elphaba allowed. "But it still must mean something."
"Oh, for me it does," Glinda promised, looking up into Elphaba's rich brown eyes through the darkness. "It means all of Oz to me when it comes from you..." a new note of adoration entered her voice and Elphaba's dark blush returned.
"Good. Then that's all that matters," she said embarrassedly. She heard Glinda chuckle through the dark.
"I guess it does," she agreed.
For a moment, the two were silent. From what Elphaba could hear, the storm seemed to finally be moving away, but there would still probably be thunder and rain for the rest of the night. That reminded her...
"So... did you want to sleep in my bed, or not?" Elphaba repeated her question from earlier, intentionally rewording.
"Yes, sure, I'd like that very much," Glinda replied, a low chuckle coming out of her as well.
"Well, then, I'll grab your ridiculously pink and frilly pillow and hope it doesn't scratch my face while I sleep," Elphaba said, making to get out of the bed, but Glinda stopped her.
"No, just stay here, I don't want either of us to move right now. We can just share yours," she insisted.
"What? But Glinda, it's so small..." Elphaba said uncertainly.
"What? Don't like the idea of us so close together?" Elphaba could practically hear the grin on Glinda's face.
"No!" Elphaba replied, too quickly.
"Good!" Glinda replied cheerfully, intentionally overlooking Elphaba's quick remark. "Then that's all that matters," she finished proudly, and Elphaba could only laugh to herself in astonishment as Glinda dragged her back under the black blankets and into her arms.
Just as Elphaba predicted, for the whole rest of the night, the storm got quieter and quieter until it faded away completely. Neither she nor Glinda ever got to see the moment when that happened, however, because both of them fell back asleep long before the storm was completely gone. Elphaba had fallen asleep almost at once, unbothered by the storm, but even though Glinda took a bit longer, even she was not awake for that much more time because, with Elphaba at her side, Glinda had never felt safer or more at home. She would never get lost again, storm or not, not when Elphaba was with her. So it did not take either of them long to fall asleep despite the gale raging at the school all around them.
AN: Here's another painfully cliché one-shot prompt of storms.
