A shadow stood at the gates of Shiz, hesitating. One slender hand reached out and gripped an iron bar. She didn't want to look back, but she couldn't stop herself.
In the distance, with one window still lit up, was Morrible's house. Just the thought of the headmistress sent jolts of fear to her stomach. She could still hear the rustle of a stiff dress, see the glint of a knife as she turned and fled from Dillamond's room at the inn. She could hear the smug voice, feel those cold eyes drilling into her…
Further on was the history building, where she could still remember the warm, bright hours spent nestled among research books and journals in the old Goat's office. Her heart twisted as she recalled those lighthearted conversations, her first comfort at Shiz. They had seemed so vital at the time, so profound. Now they seemed like child's play.
The library, with the table in the corner that had once been hers and hers alone, but now also belonged to Boq and Fiyero and Crope and Tibbett. Her gaze lingered on the library, taking in the building that had once been her safe haven, her paradise, her place to hide from the petty threats of Pfannee and Milla and Shenshen and…and Galinda, for she was still Galinda then.
Swallowing thickly, she forced herself to keep scanning the campus.
The café, the fountain, the benches and courtyards. A ways off she could just make out the lake, barely reflecting in the moonlight. Somewhere out there was the little grove of trees they had claimed as their own. And in another corner, a dark, polished stone, set in the ground next to a jar of flames that would never go out.
The dorms—her eyes skipped over Crage Hall in utter refusal—the academic buildings, with their ivy creeping up old, weathered brick. And right in front of her, the main square.
She had meant to turn away, but it was too late. She was rooted to the ground, frozen in the onslaught of memories. Of whispers and stares, of classmates shoving into her, of an ornate carriage arriving, carrying a certain Winkie prince. Of walks with her favorite teacher, rolling her eyes at her peers. And later, waiting in the cold for a carriage that would take her away for a month. A small blonde pressed to her side for warmth. Soft lips brushing a quick goodbye over her cheek.
She closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was remembering something different. The Gale Force closing in, Dillamond's head held high as he walked away…her knees hitting hard ground, tiny arms wrapping around her.
Her eyes went out of focus, and she could see it there: two girls, huddled together in the middle of the square. They weren't even friends yet. Just two girls, dancing around each other, unsure of how to act, how to speak, how to love. She had thought of it was an end at the time, but now she knew it was a beginning. The beginning to everything.
And this. Maybe this was a beginning, too.
She would go to Munchkinland. Back to the Colwen Grounds, maybe, but only for a short time. She couldn't put Nessa in danger, and she knew her father wouldn't let her stay long, especially not under the circumstances. But she would check up on her sister, make sure she was okay. After that, she wasn't sure. Maybe she'd wander around Munchkinland, where the Wizard's influence was, at least for now, still scarce. She wasn't sure what was waiting for her there, or what she could do. But it was away from Morrible, and that was a start.
She blinked, her hand falling from its grip on the iron gate. The two girls—the shadow of that far-off day in the square, when all of this began—disappeared, and she was left alone. But this loneliness wasn't familiar. It was harsher, colder. She couldn't breathe.
She almost turned back.
Instead, the green girl tore herself away from Shiz University and began walking down the road, one lone figure vanishing into the still, dark night.
She couldn't breathe. She had run to the door after Elphaba disappeared, but her hand froze on the doorknob. She wanted to follow her, would follow her in a heartbeat if she'd asked, but she didn't ask. And Glinda wasn't sure if she was brave enough to go after her on her own.
But was she brave enough to live without her?
No, no she wasn't. But by the time she'd made up her mind and ran out of the dorm after her, Elphaba was gone. She screamed her name, but there was no answer. Glinda stood on the steps of Crage Hall, her bare feet dancing on the cold concrete steps. Her hair flew chaotically around her, the night wind pulling it in different directions, scattering it around until it was almost as lost as she felt.
She didn't remember going back inside, or making her way up to the room. The next thing she knew she was crawling into bed—Elphaba's bed—and twisting her fists into the dark, worn sheets. They smelled like Elphie: pinewood and fresh air, books and ink and fresh parchment, and maybe a hint of her own perfume that lingered on the green girl these days.
She wanted Elphaba back. She wanted the green arms wrapping around her and the silky black hair to tangle her fingers in. She wanted her soft breathing and wild laughter and eyes that swallowed her whole and her strength and her compassion and devotion and fire and wit and she was gone gone gone gone.
Glinda buried her face in Elphaba's pillow and pulled the blanket almost too tight around her shoulders. She clenched her teeth and tried not to scream again, although maybe that would make her feel better. Instead, she curled up as small as possible and choked on her sobs, listening as everything inside of her shattered.
And the moon, travelling west across Oz that night, seemed to pause an extra moment over the college, as if it, too, was crying out for the things that almost were.