After the last glimmers of sunlight vanished over the horizon came nightfall. It was a time when the drudgery and distractions of the daylight were temporarily laid to rest. In the Badlands, the inky darkness and near-silence were a far cry from the bright lights and noise of the Emerald City, or even from Munchkinland and the Vinkus. There was a disconcerting solitude to it all. One glance out the window revealed little more than what resembled a black hole, while everything in the room seemed to loom over them more when hidden in eerie shadows.
For Elphaba, there were good nights and bad nights.
Tonight was a bad night. Fiyero could tell that much when he found her in the bedroom, wide awake well after midnight. The sheets had been tangled into knots and spilled over onto the floor below. She sat on the very edge of the bed and did not react to Fiyero's presence at all, merely staring straight ahead at nothing. Her hair had fallen out of its bun and was in tangles, her jaw was tightly clenched, and every inch of her body seemed painfully tense.
Some bad nights ended in a fight. Others led Elphaba to finally release the emotion she held inside and allow herself a rare cry. Oz, he would've almost preferred either of those options to suffocating silence.
The nights were always worse. At daytime, there were repairs on the house to make and books to read and the chance of finding a fellow person or Animal out there somewhere. It wasn't so dark that it didn't make a difference whether his eyes were open or shut.
The trance broke when Elphaba acknowledged Fiyero at last, briefly meeting eyes with him before glancing away. She let out a single, choked sob before burying her head in her hands and entwining her fists into her hair. It wasn't long before she sat up, back ramrod-straight again. Her eyes were widened and rimmed with dark circles, but not a single tear came from them. In the morning, she would apologize to him for having to see her like that. Morning seemed weeks away.
Fiyero took a tentative step towards the bed, knowing he had to do something right then. The question was what exactly would be best. Should he say something? There was so much he wanted to tell her: how much he loved her, how none of the things that happened to her were her fault, and how strong she was for getting through it all. Of course, if he did say his thoughts, something would get lost in translation when it reached her ears. He'd learned not to underestimate his ability to say something stupid and make it worse.
He closed the remaining distance between where he stood and where she sat. The bed creaked and groaned in protest as he climbed on from the other side. He moved closer to her, until they sat back-to-back. It was hard to notice at first, but he could feel Elphaba's entire body slightly shaking. Even out of his peripheral, Fiyero could not make out her face. Her features were hidden behind a curtain of her hair when she dropped her head to fixate on a spot on the ground. What exactly went on in her mind, he didn't know for certain, but he could guess. She was the last surviving member of her family, Oz still celebrated her death, and her best friend was a world away.
Whatever Fiyero could do for her wouldn't be enough. She had a thousand demons preying on her mind, and he was just one person. It was impossible to fix everything. He knew that this wouldn't be the last bad night she ever had. But she was a strong one, and he wasn't going anywhere. The bad nights never lasted forever, no matter how long they felt.
Elphaba sat up again, causing them to lean against each other once more. Whether it was truth or merely Fiyero's perceptions and hopes he wasn't sure, but he felt that Elphaba wasn't shaking as badly that time around. Fiyero allowed his eyes to close, relaxing his body. Perhaps she would fall asleep eventually. Perhaps she wouldn't. Either way, he settled in for the night. There they stayed, resting on the bed until dawn broke.