The title for chapter twenty-three is from…Last 5 Years. Congrats to Easterly Winds, maureen is me, Yank2324.
Second to last angsty chapter for now. Promise. Please don't cry…although I almost cried when I reread it…You can thank CardboardCreative for being such a good beta and actually making me close to crying.
Chapter 24: Woman to Woman
In one, fowl swoop, it seemed to Glinda that all her hopes disappeared. She literally froze in her steps, impotent with fear and head dizzy with scrambled words. Being present to words of impending death didn't evoke the kindest feelings, especially if the one dying was your lover. Luckily, Madame Pomphrey was much more composed.
"Calm down, both of you!" she snapped, using her first three fingers to feel Elphaba's jugular vein. "Though weak, Thropp still has a pulse. Do you know the 'mouth-to-mouth' revival, Granger? Well, go on, do it now!"
Hermione leaned over the green witch and clasped her nostrils. Uncovering her wand, the sharp old nurse cast "Respiro" two or three times, aiming at Elphaba's chest, but being careful to not hit the bushy haired witch. The seconds that passed felt more like minutes, and before one of the latter was up, Elphaba was sucking in air with a healthy vigor.
The three witches stood over their unconscious comrade, looking up at one another in question. They seemed to repeat a steady 'what do we do next?', although no one answered. Hermione wrung her hands.
"I- I think we should-" began Hermione, but before she finished, Elphaba interrupted with a gurgled cough, followed by a fit of coughs and gasps. Blood spurted from her mouth, and Glinda jumped back.
"Granger, the spell! Again!" Pomphrey ordered, her rigid form hovering over Elphaba with her wand grasped in one hand. "Her lungs aren't clear yet; she'll choke on her own blood."
Hermione nodded and whipped out the long, dark wooded stick and turned to the green woman, who was now thrashing about violently, causing the bed sheets to go flying off the mattress and land in a twisted mess. Elphaba was expressing the need for air, her mouth acting as a geyser of blood, oozing the red liquid out to spill down her neck.
"Hold her!" Pomphrey barked at Glinda. The blonde dropped the bandages in her hands and grasped her girlfriend's shoulders firmly with one arm and her torso with the other, ignoring the bruises she was pressing into.
"It's all right, Elphie," she whispered. Although she was close enough to get the crimson liquid on herself, Glinda was still unsure if Elphaba could hear. "You're safe. You're with us – Hermione and Harry and everyone – you're safe. I promise."
Elphaba's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, brown eyes locked with blue. Elphaba's eyes were glazed with pain, and Glinda didn't know if Elphaba could even see her. It was a rare moment of humanity when a person accidentally catches glimpse of eternity, and the powers that be must stumble to erase the sight. After a matter of seconds, Elphaba was down again; miserably unconscious in the chaos she created. Everyone surrounding her who had been holding their breath let it out in relief.
The blonde continued to whisper comforting words of encouragement to her love as the trio, feeling their burden lessen, worked to soothe Elphaba's immediate wounds and dress them accordingly. Harry was right: the green woman had just been pulled back at the brink of death, and someone important was fond of her. Being fond of Elphaba herself, Glinda send a silent thanks to the Unnamed God, although she wasn't exempt from the painful days to follow.
Finally, Madame Pomphrey relaxed the thin line of a frown on her face and let out a sigh. "We've done the best we can, for now. We'll have to observe her for the next while, but now, let's give her some rest."
Hermione looked at the nurse with a small smile. "You do know that once Fae wakes up, she's going to try and get out of here, right?"
Pomphrey shook her head in exasperation. "As usual," she grumbled. "If I'm here, I'll stop her, of course, but if I'm not…Glinda, I assume you'll probably be here."
"Definitely," Glinda said, feeling slightly annoyed that someone would suggest she not be at that exact bedside until Elphaba could leave.
"Good. Then we've no worries in that department. Just don't wear yourself out, dearie. Thropp isn't the only one who needs to rest," Pomphrey warned with an accusing finger before retreating back to her office.
Taking a freshly laundered cloth from a pile at the bed table, Glinda gently wiped away the blood that stained Elphaba's face and neck, careful not to wet her dark hair. Hermione stood and watched for a moment, receding into her own thoughts and not paying attention. Then, she realized that she was standing there and doing nothing and therefore turned to leave.
"Hermione," Glinda started, sitting down in the chair by the bedside, indicating Elphaba, "how do you think she'll fair? I'm terrified."
The bushy haired witch paused at the door of the Hospital Wing and whacked her sides, shrugging without enthusiasm. "If she survives tonight, then she'll be fine. But mentally, it's hard to tell, Glinda. I, er… we don't know what she went through with Voldemort and the Death Eaters… or what they did to her. The ramifications could be fear, anxiety, anger, depression… I've seen it all from rescued prisoners. If she's not in a right state, don't be surprised."
Glinda opened her mouth to reply when Harry and Dumbledore entered through the doors, giving Hermione a fright. They walked, grunting their greetings, to Elphaba's bed, and looked down at her. Glinda couldn't help but compare it to how people would pay their last respects to a dead body.
For Lurline's sake, Glinda, she berated herself, Elphaba's not dead. She's breathing perfectly. She's perfectly okay. Perfectly.
"Hermione," Dumbledore said at length, "Harry informed me of the rescue…and about Ron."
"I don't understand," Harry said apathetically. "Why Ron? How could he possibly do this?" He waved a hand over Elphaba, as if casting a spell. "I can't believe I didn't see the change in him… I just pushed him away. I shouldn't have ignored him."
"Harry, I don't think you would make a difference," assured Dumbledore, his beard swung over his shoulder. "If Ronald was enticed by the promise of power that Voldemort pitches, then no one could possibly have swayed him back to us. It would only be a matter of time before the temptation became too great for him to resist."
Glinda blinked, remembering images of the redheaded, freckled man pouting with disgruntlement. "RON?" she shrieked, cringing at the realization of Elphaba's slumber. She spoke quietly this time. "It was Ron who hurt her like this?"
The two friends and Dumbledore didn't answer her verbally, but their silence spoke volumes.
"No one hurts my Elphie and gets away with it," Glinda hissed, in an uncharacteristic burst of anger.
"Glinda, don't. Fae needs you at her side right now," Harry said sternly. "She would never forgive herself if you went out looking for revenge and got hurt in the process. You understand me?"
Glinda nodded. "And what will happen to Ron, then?" she asked, still furious that someone Elphaba knew, and at least trusted somewhat, would be the cause of such betrayal and desecration.
"If we capture him, he'll go to Azkaban, I suppose," Dumbledore said. "After a trial."
"If you capture him?" Glinda almost yelled. "You mean he's not going to pay for what he did to Elphie? And even if you did manage to catch him, there's a chance the trial would see him free? What kind of world is this?"
"We were a bit preoccupied with saving Fae, not to mention getting ourselves out of the Riddle House to bother with capturing Ron. Sorry about that," Harry snapped, annoyed.
Fiyero burst through the door with a giant bang, his ungraceful feet heavy and noisy on the stone floor. At the receiving end of three identical glares, he turned to the only person who was not looking at him in anger and who in fact didn't change expressions at all.
"Fiyero!" admonished Hermione. "Fae is sleeping. Be quiet."
"Sorry," Fiyero apologized, checking Elphaba to see if she woke during his arrival, with no avail. He pulled up a chair on the opposite side of Glinda, and studied Elphaba's almost lifeless profile.
Hermione gave Harry a meaningful look, who nodded solemnly and left the room with Hermione and Dumbledore following suit leisurely.
"Hey Elphaba," Fiyero began awkwardly, glancing nervously at Glinda, for he was not used to talking to the unconscious. "It's Fiyero." He looked at Glinda again, unsure of what to say. Glinda let out a ragged breath, and turned away slightly, granting him privacy.
"Snape told me about everything. Ron, and Voldemort, and…" Fiyero paused for a moment, "…and your condition. I'm sorry, Elphaba. That night we left Oz, I promised you that I would protect you. Even if we're not together, I still stuck to that endeavor. Obviously, I failed. Oz, but I promise you- I promise you that I won't leave you unprotected again.
"You need to wake up, Fabala, you just have to. You have too much to live for." His voice cracked, despite himself. "Me, and Harry, not to mention Glinda. You can't leave her, Elphaba. Think about her. Don't give up. Don't break that spotless record."
Fiyero sucked in air and gave the limp hand within his a light squeeze. "Please be alright," he whispered as he kissed her knuckles. He looked up at Glinda, who was turned, but eavesdropping all the same. "Do you want some time alone with her? Will you be alright?"
"Yes, please." She turned back to face him, intentionally tiptoeing over his second question. Giving a slight nod and casting one last unreadable glance at Elphaba, Fiyero left. Glinda sat down and watched him walk away, his boots clicking with every step until the door closed behind him.
"Elphie," began the blonde, leaning her elbows on the mattress, "I'm so glad you're alive. I'm sorry for- for everything. Please, I'm begging you, just wake up. Everything will be okay again when you wake up."
The green woman lay on the bed, unresponsive, a polar opposite of minutes before when she was thrashing and desperate to breath. She was completely unaware of the world around her. The blonde didn't expect any miracles, but wished for one selfishly. She was unable to help the tears that ran unchecked down her cheeks. Elphaba's dark, somewhat matted hair was sprawled on the pillowcase, and Glinda busied herself with carefully tidying its position as she brushed it with her fingers.
"I never told you this, Elphie, but after you died- or faked your death, I suppose- I spent a lot of the nights staying up, watching the moon. Remember what you said about the moon all those years ago, at Shiz? I doubt you remember, to even expect me to."
Glinda wasn't exactly sure why she was talking to an unconscious person, or even what possessed her to. Something needed to be done – anything – to motivate Elphaba to wake. Perhaps in her deep state of sleep, the green woman could hear Glinda.
"You told me that you loved the moon because it never judged you. It was just there - the only constant in your life. I listened to you for once, Elphie, and when you were gone, it was my turn to keep the moon as my friend. I spilled everything. In a way, it was a means to stay connected with you, even before you were gone.
"Dumbledore asked me to fight in this war, and I didn't want to be involved in something so huge, so I was hesitant. Then, you know what? I thought of you, Elphie. You gave me the courage, and Oz, you were even here! It was one of the best decisions of my life. In coming here…I found you."
Glinda paused to collect her thoughts, and she heard the large doors open softly (for once) behind her back.
"Glinda?" Hermione called, seeing the blonde's shoulder slumped over the mattress, unsure if she walked into something personal. "Are you coming to dinner?"
Glinda shook her head, not quite trusting herself to speak.
"Are you sure?" pressed the bushy haired witch. "You haven't eaten much lately, and now that Fae's going to be alright-"
"No, Hermione," Glinda said with surprise force. "We don't know if she'll be alright. I have to be here for her when she wakes up."
Hermione knew better than to rebuttal with the fact Elphaba wouldn't wake for a good while. She tapped her foot impatiently and grasped the door handle. "I'll bring you something later." She promptly shut the door, making a mental note to mention her worries for Glinda's health to Madame Pomphrey.
Sighing to let out the annoyance of an interruption, Glinda looked back at Elphaba's calm face and continued.
"When you were in the Great Hall that day… I couldn't believe you were real. I thought it might have been a rude joke by loyalists to the wizard, or even Dumbledore. I just... couldn't believe it. I kept expecting you to disappear that first week. But you didn't. I stopped talking to the moon because I wasn't alone anymore. Lurline, Elphie, I was so happy."
Thinking back, infusing the memory with the painful part of the story, Glinda felt her eyes prickle with fresh tears, and blinked roughly to get them over with.
"And then, you were taken away again. It was like… ripping open an old scab. Or better yet, tearing apart parchment. I didn't know anything except that you were probably in constant pain and it was all my fault. I couldn't eat, because I could only remember how you were going to be starved, and I couldn't sleep because every time I closed my eyes, I would only see you being beaten.
"So, I started talking to the moon again. I told it about my fears of what was happening to you – to us. And then, today, Harry brought you back. You're so fickle, Elphie! One minute we're perfectly happy, and the next…you're gone, leaving me with nothing but memories. And it happens so often! You stopped breathing today, and so did I. You were dying in front of me and I couldn't do anything about it."
Elphaba's eyelids fluttered for a moment and Glinda felt like her heart literally skipped a beat. "Elphie?" she whispered hopefully, enquiringly. "Can you hear me?" She fumbled for Elphaba's hand. "Squeeze my hand if you can hear me."
There wasn't even a slight response. Glinda let go of Elphaba's hand and watched it fall back down on the blankets. She impulsively resumed stroking Elphaba's hair. "Why does everything happen to you, Elphie? You done too many good things to deserve this. After everything you've done for everybody… and for me, I should be the one lying there and suffering like that."
Glinda scanned the confining walls of the Hospital Wing, breaking from the devastating, yet slightly peaceful, expression on Elphaba's face. Glinda felt like the walls were crashing in on her, solid waves in a stone ocean, with no way of escape. She hadn't an idea of how to help Elphaba out of this situation. She couldn't tell how much pain was exhausted on the green body. She wanted dearly to clutch it closely enough to transport all the pain to herself. But she couldn't. Completely useless. Glinda felt completely useless.
"I don't care what Hermione or Harry or anyone says, Elphie. The people who did this to you are going to pay dearly. If you could call them people."
And they would. If Glinda ever encountered Ronald Weasley again, she didn't know what kind of force she'd unleash on him. She didn't think she would be able to restrain herself, and momentarily indulged in the thought of him begging for his life.
It was always Elphaba who played the strong role. And now that Glinda was under the gruesome responsibility, she didn't plan to fail. "Don't worry, Elphie. I'm here. I'll always be here for you."
Days passed. The sun rose and set in continual cycles, just as it always did. With each dying day, Elphaba showed no signs of awakening. And with each dying day, Glinda felt dread take the place of her faith, in intangible pieces.
She committed her time to the Hospital Wing, making it as much her home as it became Elphaba's. Neglecting her own needs of food and sleep, she hardly left the bedside. If ever she caught herself dosing off on the edge of the mattress, Glinda simply took to pacing at the foot of it.
She did anything and everything around the Wing, from speaking to Elphaba to assisting Madame Pomphrey in changing wound dressings to occasionally running chores around the Wing for the nurse. All the while, she kept close watch to the unmoving form on the bed, save for the slight rising and falling chest, never breaking its pattern.
An odd five days following Elphaba's rescue, Madame Pomphrey gathered her wits and asked Glinda to sit with her. Pulling up a chair next to the one Glinda was wearing down, the nurse watched Elphaba and wondered how someone could become fixated on a thing that hardly moved. Interesting as the beautiful shade of her skin was, intense as the power of her human life was, Elphaba was still boring as a doorknob. It would drive a woman to insanity.
The nurse feared just that, under the circumstances if Elphaba never did wake up. He blonde's entire life had become devoted to watching Elphaba, waiting patiently, inspecting every aspect of the green witch's unconsciousness.
"Glinda?" Pomphrey began hesitantly. Glinda turned to look at her, unresponsive, but beckoning a continuance. "Glinda, you should get some sleep. I'll watch over Thropp for you, and I'll even wake you if there's any change. But it's not healthy for you to carry on like this."
"Understand that I need to be here for Elphaba when she wakes up," Glinda persisted stubbornly. "Not after. Besides, it's not like I'll be able to sleep. Not until I know Elphaba is awake..."
"Glinda…" Pomphrey sighed, pushing aside annoyance to accommodate her sympathy for what the blond was going through. "There isn't a clue of what's going to become of her. After those injuries, I thought Thropp a dead woman. Alive now, yes, but waking up is an entirely different issue."
"But she will," Glinda said, careful to not sound maddened. "Elphie keeps defying expectations. It's in her nature. Who's to say she won't defy this one as well?"
Pomphrey groaned openly. She was too old to bat around the bush and she lacked the patience. She had hoped that she didn't have to do what she arranged, but now…
Reaching to the bedside table, she retrieved a goblet of water, the outer metal moist with condensation. "Fine, I'm in no position to force you. At least drink something, dear. It's one thing to be exhausted, but I don't want to admit you here for dehydration."
Pomphrey didn't feel guilt about slipping the potent sleeping potion into the water, confident that her judgment was flawless. The idea was to keep the blonde unconscious for a day or two, so that she could catch up on the hours she missed. Merlin knows she required rejuvenation: the bags beneath her blue eyes were out of place on her delicate features.
Without suspicion, Glinda accepted the water and drank it greedily. The nurse smiled smugly at how little the blonde stopped to breath.
Standing up to stretch, Glinda stumbled slightly. Her limbs grew heavier suddenly, as they did when one is about to retire. As she cast her eyes downward at Elphaba, she wondered if Elphaba felt her body at all: if it felt as heavy as Glinda did now. She inhaled sharply, realizing that Pomphrey had tricked her into drinking a goblet full of something obviously not water.
"You…" Glinda felt too tired to find the words, and sat down before she could fall over. Didn't she witness Hermione getting poisoned only a month ago? Madame Pomphrey should have known better than to inflict that kind of anxiety again.
The nurse clasped her hands and stood up. "It was for your own good, Glinda. You needed to sleep." Her accented voice became increasingly warbled and echoed in Glinda's mind, reverberating off her skull. Soon, her vision blurred and her eyelids were too heavy to keep open. The world began to tilt, and all Glinda could think about was closing her eyes.
So she did.
Coming up: Hurt and comfort.
Okay…here's the deal. I'm going to Ashland on Friday until the Wednesday after that. Depending on if chapter 26 is finished from now until Thursday, I might update chapter 25 sometime before Ashland.
Then, I'm going to Yellowstone the next Wednesday. I'll probably update in the Monday between those two Wednesdays, but you might have to wait until I get back from Yellowstone…
And I'm auditioning for 'Singin' in the Rain' this week. Wish me good luck!
-Wolfie