The boys and Glinda returned fifteen minutes later, all shaking their heads. Elphaba was pacing back and forth furiously, the book still in her hands. Every once in awhile she would flip open the pages in frustration as if she expected to still find something there.
But there was nothing, and she knew it.
Her frustration grew so by the time they left the library, her hands were clenched into fists. Crope and Fiyero shot worried glances at each other, but it was Glinda who hurt the most, if only because she knew there was nothing she could do to fix it.
"We'll reconvene tomorrow," Elphaba said tiredly. They stopped in the middle of the lawn, and she glanced over her shoulder at Dillamond's office, half-expecting to see a light on.
But there was nothing.
"See you then," Crope replied, and he and Fiyero set off across campus. The girls watched them leave.
As soon as the boys stepped off the lawn, thunder cracked overhead where there had been a clear sky only moments before. Elphaba frowned, looking up at it.
"We should get inside," Glinda said softly, and no sooner had she said anything then it began to rain. Not a rain, but a downpour, torrential like a waterfall. Both girls were soaked before they had time to react.
"Run!" Glinda shrieked, but Elphaba stood there in shock. Without thinking, Glinda grabbed the taller girl's hand and pulled her along, not stopping until they were safe under the archway.
"Elphaba," Glinda said, panicked at the red welts already beginning to appear on her roommate's skin. Elphaba hissed, sucking in air through her teeth.
"I'll be fine. Let's just get to the room."
"But—"
"If you argue with me it'll take more time," she gritted out, and Glinda shut her mouth. They walked along the corridor, taking care to stay away from the flood of water, and pushed inside the dormitory.
No sooner had they stepped in, creating dripping puddles on the floor, than Glinda glanced out the window to see the sky completely clear.
"Elphaba…" she started. "Look."
Elphaba glanced up, a frown darkening her face. "Let's go. Now."
Her tone left little room for argument. She leaned heavily on Glinda as they made their way up to the second floor, wincing against the pain. She bargained with herself—if she made it through this, she would do whatever it took to take down the Wizard, and Morrible, and the whole damned system. She would devote the rest of her life to destroying whatever she could.
They finally reached their room, and Glinda hurried to unlock the door. She stepped inside and immediately magicked a fire into the fireplace, filling the room with an orange glow.
"Clothes off," she said, trying her best to sound authoritative even with a shaking voice.
"Turn around," Elphaba said.
"Elphaba, we don't have time for your modesty, they're burning you—here," Glinda said, and rushed over to her roommate, her trembling fingers working at the buttons on Elphaba's dress.
"Don't worry about tearing it, it's ruined anyway," Elphaba said, peering at Glinda from over her shoulder. "It'll go faster if it tears."
Glinda nodded, and knotted the fabric in her fingers, ripping it at the seams. Elphaba winced.
"Do you want me to stop?"
She shook her head. "No. Just get it off."
She split the dress down the back, sliding it off Elphaba's shoulders. The welts were surrounded by blotchy patches of purple and red, a stark contrast with Elphaba's own green skin, the small parts where—miraculously—no water had touched.
And below were still those silvery scars, the crisscrossing ones Glinda had paid no mind to, and smaller patches of puckered green skin shaped almost like drops.
"Oh Elphie," Glinda breathed as she slipped the dress over her waist, and she felt Elphaba tense at her touch. Her back was bare, there was no bra or any of the other lacy trappings girls wore to make themselves pretty.
"Can you get it from here?" Glinda said, and Elphaba nodded, quickly shucking her dress down over her hips and revealing a pair of plain black shorts that almost looked like boys' underthings. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and quickly pinned it back so the wet of it wouldn't touch her skin. Glinda tried not to stare at her skin, or the scars, or even just Elphaba herself.
"My oils are in my nightstand drawer," Elphaba said after a minute, her arms folded across her chest, her back still to Glinda. "I can get most of the burns but I... I'll need your help."
It took Glinda a moment to realize what Elphaba was asking. "S-sure," she finally said, and walked over to the nightstand, hands shaking.
She opened the drawer and there—Oz, she hadn't realized how many oils Elphaba had, and so meticulously labeled. She picked a larger jar labeled "Burns," filled with a thick, almost syrup-like brown liquid. Another labeled "Soothe," almost the same green as Elphaba herself.
Glinda picked up the bottles with shaking hands and walked back over to Elphaba, taking time to assess the damage before she did so. Elphaba's legs were largely unscathed, as tall boots and thick woolen socks, in addition to the fact her skirt flowed outward, kept away most of the water.
"Turn around," Glinda said.
"Why?"
"I need to see how bad the rest of it is."
"Can you just get my back?"
"No, because knowing you you're going to lie to me about how bad the pain is and not treat it."
"Glinda," Elphaba said, an edge in her voice, "I think I know how to take care of myself, of my own body."
"Can't you just, for once, let me help you?" Glinda snapped.
Elphaba sighed. She seemed too tired to argue, or perhaps was in too much pain, because she gave Glinda a small nod and turned so more of her back was exposed so she could help.
Glinda unscrewed the stopper to the bottle labeled "Burns." It was thick as tar and had a medicinal smell to it, though it wasn't sticky.
"Where do you get these?" Glinda asked as she warmed the oil between her palms.
"They're Quadling remedies," Elphaba murmured. "When I was a child…" Her voice trailed off as Glinda ran her hands gently over the worst parts on her shoulders. "Turtle Heart brought them once they learned of my allergies."
Glinda held her breath. Elphaba had mentioned Turtle Heart in passing before, but never fully—she rarely spoke about her childhood at all. And Glinda felt, rightly so, that if she asked Elphaba then she wouldn't get an answer.
"Does it sting?" she asked instead.
"I'm used to it," Elphaba said softly. Glinda's hands slipped down to the small of her back, working the oils in, and Elphaba sucked in a breath. Glinda tried not think of how she was touching her, the fact she was touching her at all.
"Your back's done," she said after a moment. "I'll… I'll let you get the rest."
Elphaba took the oils from Glinda's hands. "Thank you," she said softly. "I…"
But she couldn't find the words. She looked up and suddenly Glinda was so near, too near. But Elphaba didn't want to draw back. It was Glinda who pulled away first, and that, coupled with the sudden remembrance of Glinda laughing with Fiyero, made Elphaba's cheeks flame.
She turned her back to Glinda again, her hands rubbing the thick oil over her shoulders.
"Can you give me some privacy?" she asked after a moment.
"As long as you promise you're actually going to treat your burns."
Elphaba frowned. "Yes. I promise."
Glinda nodded, and headed to the bathroom, shutting herself in. She stole a glance at herself in the mirror, the rain having dampened her curls. Her cheeks were flushed, and too late she realized that the dress she'd worn was clinging to her in… well. Certain places.
Oz, had Elphaba been looking and not even realized?
But that was a stupid thought, when Elphaba had been so hurt by that downpour.
Something began to whir in Glinda's brain, some mechanical process of thought, another long-forgotten conversation with Morrible.
"Elphaba?" Glinda called through the door.
"Come on."
Glinda made her way out. Elphaba was sitting on her bed, her back still to Glinda, her arms seemingly crossed. The oil made her skin shine, the silvery scars more visible.
"What are those?" Glinda asked, Morrible momentarily forgotten.
"Why do you want to know?"
"Because…"
But she couldn't think of a good reason.
"They're burns, Glinda."
"You know that's not what I'm asking."
"No," Elphaba said. "I know." She pointed to her closet. "Can you grab a nightgown for me, please?"
"Sure," Glinda said. She headed to the closet, began rifling through Elphaba's dresses. "We need to take you shopping, Elphie," she said, momentarily slipping back into Galinda. "Some of these are completely worn through." She fingered a slip that had patches haphazardly sewn into the elbows. "Or maybe I could fix them with magic…"
"If you magick my clothing there's a chance it'll come alive in the middle of the night and kill us both," Elphaba said, and when Glinda looked at her there was a trace of a smile on her face.
"Please, I'm not that advanced," Glinda said. "Morrible, maybe. Not me." She handed Elphaba a nightgown, a soft worn material she'd clearly had for many years. "How often do you need to reapply the oils?" She asked like she was curious, not like she wanted an excuse to touch her again.
"Daily, for the first few days until the burns fade," Elphaba said. She grimaced. "I wish we could go to the nurse."
"Why can't we?" Glinda asked, sitting on the bed next to Elphaba once she'd dressed, careful to keep her distance.
"Because I don't want Morrible to know."
"Know what?" Glinda asked, and Elphaba fixed her with a look.
"You really aren't that naïve, I know."
"You think she did it," Glinda said. "The storm."
"Don't you?"
"Yes," Glinda said quietly. "I do. She told me once—before. In sorcery. She's hinted she has some talent for the weather."
"She knows I'm allergic to water," Elphaba said. "It—it's in my student file. So."
"That was more than knowing you're allergic to water. That much could have—Elphaba, she could have killed you."
Elphaba nodded. Her hand was so near Glinda could have reached out and grabbed it, twined their fingers together, but she didn't dare.
"How did you and Fiyero find that book, anyway?" Elphaba asked after a minute. "The one that wouldn't move."
"We just… kept trying books," Glinda said. "And it wouldn't move. Was it Dillamond's?"
"No," Elphaba said. "I don't think so. He hated magic. I think—I think Morrible did it. She knew we'd be looking, and the second we tried to move the book…"
"She knew," Glinda finished. Then… "Are you mad at me?"
"Why would I be mad at you?"
"You're not that naïve," Glinda parroted. She put her hand back on her lap. "Because of… because of Fiyero. And what happened in the cafe."
"What happened in the café was just a misunderstanding and has no bearing on my feelings for you," Elphaba said.
"Come Elphaba, I know it wasn't. You think… well. You don't understand what it's like for me—"
"Being blonde and pretty and popular?" Elphaba spat, with more malice than she intended. Glinda flinched.
"No. I—never mind." She stood. "You really do only think of me as some airheaded bimbo, don't you?"
Elphaba softened. "Glinda…"
"Those are your words—what you said in the cafe. I may not be bookish and yes, I may have grown up in a completely different environment than you, but that—that doesn't mean I can't think for myself, that I'm not—I'm not capable. Not all of us can care as little as you."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. Elphaba's expression didn't change.
"I'm sorry—" Glinda started, but Elphaba held up a hand.
"Just don't. We're tired. I'm hurt. It's not a good time."
"It's never going to be a good time, is it?" Glinda asked, but she didn't think Elphaba heard her. She stood in front of the fire for a moment before resigning herself to get ready for bed, the only thoughts running through her head on how she could prove herself to Elphaba, how she could make her finally see how valuable she was, how much she needed her.
She just had to figure out a way to make Elphaba realize it.
She murmured a spell under her breath and the fire extinguished. Glinda lay in bed, the only sound Elphaba's breathing.
"Elphaba?" she ventured.
But there was no response.
