Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked. I only own the plot. If you want someone to credit, credit Stephen Schwartz, Winnie Holzman, and Gregory Maguire.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews!

Nymeria: Um... by the time that happens (and yes, it will happen), I'd be feeling bad for both of them... you'll see.

Elphaba: Sorry, sorry! I swear, I won't torture you... this chapter, at least... Okay, maybe just a little...

Elphaba froze the instant it happened. Pain radiated from the left side of her body as the loud sound registered in her brain. The instant that she was able to process what had just happened, she snapped out of her short-lived stasis. Slowly turning her head in the direction of the bullet, she was horrified at what she saw: a soldier lying on the ground, holding a still-smoking musket. This wasn't just any soldier, though: this was the Captain of the Guard himself. The two locked eyes for just a moment, hers filled with horror, his filled with triumph.

A wave of weariness suddenly racked her body, and she collapsed to her knees, suddenly feeling the full impact of the bullet wound on her body. She never took her eyes off of Fiyero, however, and she felt more hurt than she ever thought possible. She had to rein in her emotions even so; she knew that he didn't know of his true past, and she just couldn't hold a grudge for that. It wasn't his fault—it was hers. She was the one that ruined the lives of everyone around her; that had been made perfectly clear from the start. He raised his gun once more, this time aiming for her head. Accepting what was about to happen as all of her guilt, grief, and pain ran through her body at the same time, she closed her eyes, waiting for the impact that was sure to end her life.

Perhaps it will be better this way, she thought. He and Galinda can live happily, get married, start a family… She opened her eyes again when she heard a thud. Turning in Fiyero's direction, her eyes widened in shock upon seeing him sprawled out on the floor. Her eyes filled with an all-too-familiar liquid once again when she saw it, but something different happened this time: she allowed them to flow freely. She saw no use in concealing them any longer since everyone around her was either too dazed to notice or unconscious. Or worse. Oz, she hoped it wasn't the latter. 21 years' worth of constant dehumanization came crashing down on her as she took in the scene. She had known her powers had potential, but this? Some of these people could be dead, for all she knew, and it would've entirely been her fault.

Another wave of weariness and nausea went through her body. She looked down at her side where the bullet had entered. For whatever reason, it hadn't seemed to have been bleeding very much at the beginning. Now, however, blood was leaking out at a faster rate. She stood up, nearly doubling over as her body screamed in protest. Looking around, a slight smile worked its way onto her face despite what had just transpired. In the corner of the room, there just so happened to be a spare broomstick. It was hidden well in the shadows, but she was just barely able to make out its shape. Going over to it in a limp/run, her body crying out against her movements with every step, she grabbed hold of it. She straddled the broom in an effort to see if it was her broom, and to her utmost surprise, it lifted her off of the ground.

Hidden in plain sight, she mused. Well, almost, at any rate. She flew over to the window, suddenly feeling much weaker. Almost the entire side of her black dress was soaked through with blood, and she knew she needed to get out before anything else. Taking one last mournful look at the room, she flew out of the opening, heading towards the forest. She didn't care if anyone saw her; they could kill her right here and now, and she wouldn't mind. Somehow, no one had seen her. They must have gone inside upon hearing the commotion, she reasoned. Her stomach suddenly lurched, and she noticed her vision was beginning to fade. The pain in her side worsened, and the wound was now bleeding fairly heavily. Before she could react, her vision went completely black, and the last thing she felt was the sensation of falling towards the forest floor.

When she came to, she was greeted by voices. It sounded like they were having a conversation, but she couldn't see anything, her eyes unwilling to open in her current condition. She strained to listen to the discussion, but she was only able to make out bits and pieces of it.

"…took quite a fall…"

"…bleeding severely…"

"…can't say for sure…" She was able to put two and two together and figure out they were talking about her with minimal effort. Now that she thought about that, she found it rather amusing that she was able to think clearly, yet even the simple task of listening to a conversation was taking a fair amount of energy to perform. She began to stir unconsciously, and the voices immediately died down.

"Oh, she's waking up!" one voice said in a quiet yet excited manner. She heard someone ushering someone else out of the room and then the sound of a door closing. She then heard footsteps rush over to her, and she strained to open one of her eyes. She could see that she was lying on a bed in a semi-small room, and she was currently staring into the face of a Goat. It wasn't just any Goat, though: she knew this one.

"Farin?" she asked weakly, scrunching her face in slight confusion. The Goat simply smiled with a relieved look on his face.

"Hello, Miss Elphaba," he said in a friendly tone. She wondered what she was doing in this room. She had met Farin a while back ago; in fact, he was one of the first Animals that she had met when she entered an Animal camp for the first time. He was the best physician in the camp, so what was he doing talking to her? More importantly, what was she doing lying in one of his beds? Then, the memories of what happened right before she passed out came back to her. Eyes widening, she attempted another question.

"How…how long have I been out?" she asked, trying—and failing—to get up.

"Hold on, Miss Elphaba! You haven't fully recovered from your wounds yet. The last thing you need to do is try to get out of bed," he advised sternly. "To answer your question, you were brought here about two days ago, unconscious and bleeding profusely from that gunshot wound there," he answered, gesturing to the healing hole in her side. "I immediately got to work on you—fortunately, I didn't have any other serious cases to deal with. I managed to extract the bullet from your side and patch up your injuries, but they will take a while to heal." She felt relieved at that; she was glad that someone had found her before it was too late. Speaking of which, though…

"Farin," she began as another question flashed through her mind, "who brought me here?" The Goat doctor smiled gently.

"Leon," he answered. She smiled at that. Leon was a small Lion cub that she had brought to the camp about two months prior. It came as no surprise to her that he was already able to bring her to the camp; Animals matured much faster than humans. She had taken a liking to him as well for more reasons than one. Not only was he incredibly grateful to her for rescuing him, but he reminded her of a certain day just before the Wicked Witch fiasco started. Elphaba put her head back down and closed her eyes, feeling an incredible amount of happiness at the memory before falling asleep. That night, she dreamed of that day.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Thanks in advance for reviewing!