AN. Today in Australia it is "R U OK?" Day; a day where everyone is encouraged to check in with the people around them and normalise discssion of mental health. Obviously it doesn't solve the issues of mental health and needs to be an every day discussion; but sometimes a small thing can be a starting point for someone. So, I hope everyone is doing OK.

Chapter 3

In a world where Elphaba had never been born, Frex was still the governor, it appeared. That shouldn't have shocked Elphaba, given that he'd been first elected prior to her birth; but as she stood by Klehr and stared up at Colwen Grounds, she couldn't shake the thought that it wasn't what she had expected. Although admittedly, a part of Elphaba had wondered for years if the Munchkins had to some degree kept electing Frex out of sympathy. Widowed, with one green daughter and one in a wheelchair… it had seemed a valid theory to Elphaba when she was eleven.

"What do I even say?" Elphaba asked Klehr, staring up at the big white house.

"What about the excuse we used for Nessarose?"

Elphaba scoffed. "If someone had knocked on the door and asked for information on an old acquaintance, I would have directed them to the library for a city directory. Not invite them in for tea."

"You don't have to go in," Klehr reminded her.

Elphaba shook her head determinedly, squaring her shoulders and setting her jaw. "No. I'm here now."

Her only hesitation was her siblings. Shell and Marra. Elphaba wasn't sure if she wanted to meet them. She wasn't sure if she wanted them to be real to her, when they could never truly be real.

"I can do this," she said, almost to herself.

A housekeeper opened the door when Elphaba rang the bell, escorting them into a parlour when Elphaba asked to see Mrs Thropp. The house looked almost as Elphaba remembered it, except a little fresher, a little more stylish. It cemented her theory that her father had kept the house the same after her mother died. Only Nessa's bedroom had ever been changed as far as Elphaba knew.

When Melena Thropp entered the room, Elphaba swallowed nervously as she got her first real look at her mother. The resemblance to Nessarose was still very evident, although Melena was older than Elphaba had ever known her. The photograph that Elphaba had seen in Nessa's parlour was clearly a few years out of date- this Melena had a few more lines and grey hairs than Elphaba had seen in the photo. But most alarming for Elphaba was the unfocused look in Melena's eyes at three o'clock in the afternoon. Elphaba didn't know how to react to that.

"Who are you?" Melena asked, squinting at Elphaba, her tone just shy of rude.

"Elphaba Tatham," Elphaba introduced herself. "I'm in town with my grandmother. I went to school with Nessarose, but then I moved to Gillikin. I was hoping to get back in touch with her."

She held her breath as Melena continued to stare at her, hoping it was plausible enough a story.

"She's not here," Melena finally replied, pouring herself a glass of wine from the drink cart in the corner before collapsing onto a chaise lounge. "She's married. To the minister."

"Oh?" Elphaba said, feigning surprise. "When did that happen?"

Melena shrugged. "Few years ago now."

"Is he a good man?" Elphaba pressed, hoping that all her instincts about Eren had been wrong.

Melena scoffed. "What is good? Is any man good?"

Elphaba blinked at the bitterness in her tone. Part of her wanted to protest- she believed that Fiyero, at least, was a good man. But these weren't the circumstances under which she wanted to tell her mother about Fiyero.

"He's a man of the Unnamed God," Elphaba said slowly, not sure what else to say.

Melena scoffed again. "That doesn't make a man good. It just gives him somewhere to hide his hypocrisy."

Elphaba didn't disagree with her, but it didn't give her any answers about Nessa and Eren either. "He loves her?"

Melena shrugged, draining her glass. "You'd have to ask my husband to get an answer for that. But then again, Frex has never been very good at seeing the truth- even when it's right in his face."

She waved her free hand towards the window. "Go to the manse. You'll find Nessarose there, I assume. Give her a message from her mother- 'Mrs Dence extends her best wishes.'"

Without another word, she left the room with her drink in hand, unsteadily bracing herself against the doorframe as she passed. Elphaba sat there frozen, gaping after her mother.

"Well, then," Klehr said after a moment's pause.

Elphaba didn't think there was any point in expecting Melena to return after that, so she took it upon herself to see herself out, Klehr following in her wake. They didn't go far- Elphaba couldn't. Her legs refused to hold her for long, and she sank on to a nearby bench before they were far past the house. She was fairly sure that this bench was not normally here, that Klehr had conjured it as she had on the bridge; but Elphaba was too grateful to have something solid beneath her to dwell on that for long.

"Would you like to find Frex? Or your siblings?" Klehr asked gently, sitting beside her.

Elphaba shook her head numbly, her stomach churning. While she was sure her father would show her more kindness as a stranger in this world than he ever had showed her as his daughter in the world Elphaba knew, that wasn't a relationship she felt a need to try and redeem. There was no real secret as to why Frex had never cared for her, seeing him now wouldn't change anything.

"My mother. Was-was she like that in my world?" she asked hoarsely, rather afraid of the answer.

Klehr paused for almost too long before answering. "Very rarely are people just one way in particular. People change with time and with their circumstances. So that's not a simple question to answer, Elphaba. But what I will say is that yes, there was the potential for your mother to become this."

Elphaba fought back a wince. Something kept tugging at her mind and she wasn't quite sure why. It wasn't until they were once again walking through the town square that Elphaba realised what it was.

"Who's Mrs Dence?"

Klehr looked over at her. "You don't know?"

Elphaba paused, wrinkling her nose. "I don't think so. The name doesn't ring a bell."

Of course, that didn't mean much- it wasn't as though Elphaba had ever known everyone in Munchkinland. But she was fairly certain that it was the name both her mother and Eren had mentioned respectively; and given Melena's tone as she said it, Elphaba was unwilling to believe that it was a coincidence.

"How are you going to find out?" Klehr asked her when Elphaba said as much.

Elphaba eyed her warily. She was almost positive that Klehr knew everything about this world that they were in, and was merely unwilling to tell Elphaba. Which was annoying, but honestly, Elphaba should have expected that. She'd read enough books to know how this kind of thing tended to play out.

Instead of answering, Elphaba stood and turned on the spot, looking around carefully. "When in doubt, go to the library," she said.

The Munchkin City library had nothing on that of Shiz or any in the Emerald City, but it had what Elphaba needed- the city directories. There were five Dence's listed in Munchkinland, but only three of those were in Munchkin City. Elphaba carefully copied the addresses out onto a piece of scrap paper taken from the librarian, and set out to the closest one.

"It's weird," she mused to Klehr as they walked.

"What is?"

"How well I remember it," Elphaba said, barely glancing at a passing street sign. "I hated so much of living here and I didn't miss it after I left. But I know exactly where we're going, like I was just here yesterday."

"Now that you have an address, does it ring any bells?" Klehr asked, seemingly genuinely curious.

Elphaba shook her head. "No," she said ruefully.

The first address was an elderly couple, and when Elphaba nonchalantly asked about Reverend Leacey- claiming to be freshly moved to Munchkinland and looking for a new church- they almost apologetically told her that as Lurlinists, they had little knowledge of the minister. The man at the second address, it turned out Elphaba did know, at least by sight. He'd worked at the bank, but she'd never learned his surname. He was a widower now, with two young sons, so Elphaba didn't even bother to ask him about the reverend.

The third address on Elphaba's list was a tiny rundown farmhouse that look abandoned as Elphaba first laid eyes on it.

"That's the old Florek place," said a middle-aged man who was passing by with his wife when Elphaba stopped them to inquire who lived there. He squinted down towards the house.

"Old Ilk Florek died… Oz, going on six years now? More or less. His daughter lives in the Emerald City now, let the place go. Shame- it used to be a stunner. She rented it out last fall to some young couple from the Glikkus. Think the husband is in some kind of trade business- he's gone a lot."

"And the wife?" Elphaba pressed.

The man visibly hesitated. "She mostly keeps to herself," he said slowly. "But she seems to be quite… involved with the church."

His wife sniffed. "She's more involved with the reverend than the church."

"Ghesicuh!"

"Oh, don't 'Ghesicuh' me, Hep," Ghesicuh said impatiently. "Half of the town knows, and the other half pretends they don't know. And there ain't no situation that requires enough 'spiritual counselling' for his buggy to be parked out the back of that house at least three times a week for hours- and only when her husband isn't there?"

She pointed to Elphaba. "Are you Unionist?"

"Uh, raised as such," Elphaba said hesitantly. "But I don't really…"

Ghesicuh nodded understandingly. "If you choose to attend, steer clear of Reverend Leacey," she warned her. "He cares more about preaching the Word than he does living by it."

"What about his wife?" Elphaba asked, just this side of polite, her throat dry.

Ghesicuh rolled her eyes, even as her husband looked rather like he wanted to ground to swallow them whole. "Oh, her. Miss Nessarose. Eldest daughter of the governor, you know. Spent her whole childhood following her father's party line- turning a blind eye to every time her mother got bored and slipped off to have an affair with whomever caught her fancy in preference of keeping the family image intact. Married the first man that offered for her as long as the governor approved of him, just to get away from her mother and her siblings. Didn't hesitate to cut her mother out when the reverend told her to; only for that man to be the worst of both her parents. Mrs Dence isn't the first dalliance he's had, nor will she be the last. But she'll stay- just as her father has. Just to keep up that image of the perfect little minister's family."

Elphaba had never thought she'd be grateful for the Munchkinland gossip mill. "If he cheats on her, why does the governor approve of him?" she demanded.

"Image, dearie."

Elphaba knew all about that. She was convinced that if it had been possible for Frex to keep her hidden from view, he would have.

"You said she married to get away from her mother and siblings. Why her siblings?" Klehr asked.

"Who else do you think was looking after the younger two while the governor is off working, and his wife is off who knows where? Nessarose, of course. And she loves them, but she resented it. Can't say I blame her, honestly. Because Shell, now there's a chance he may be the governor's child; but the youngest? I'll eat my hat if she's biologically his."

Elphaba froze, thinking back to that photo in Nessa's parlour of the Thropp family, and the youngest girl with the bright red hair. She didn't really recall thanking the couple and continuing down the lane towards the farmhouse, Klehr hurrying along in her wake.

"That's what my mother meant by calling him a hypocrite," Elphaba said needlessly, her steps long and fast. "Isn't it? He looks down on her for having affairs, even though he's doing the same thing to Nessa?"

"Yes," Klehr confirmed.

Part of Elphaba wanted to stride up to the house, pound on the door and pull Eren out to demand that he go home to his wife and be a better husband. But instead, she approached the house, slipped through the gate and ducked around to the back. Sure enough, there was a horse and buggy tied to the back porch in a place that was clearly positioned in a place to appear nonchalant and innocent, while also carefully hidden from view if you happened to pass by. Of course, there was nothing about the buggy to identify it to Elphaba as belonging to the reverend; but she hadn't spent two years sneaking around Oz without being caught for nothing.

The curtains over the windows at this part of the house were drawn, but Elphaba still kept a wary eye out as she approached the buggy, as Klehr hung back and watched. The horse eyed her as she approached, snorted softly and then turned its head away. The front seat of the buggy was empty, but under the seat, Elphaba found a copy of the Unionist scriptures. And on the front title page, was written 'Eren Leacey' in an unfamiliar handwriting.

"I would think if you're counselling someone spiritually with the scriptures, it helps to actually have the scriptures at hand," she muttered to herself, tossing it back under the seat with a sniff. There wasn't much else to do after that, Elphaba figured.

"So?" she asked Klehr rather bitterly after she returned to her side and they were walking away from the house.

"So?"

"Isn't this the part where you convince me how my parents are better off because I was born?"

Klehr chuckled. "Why don't you tell me, Elphaba?"

Elphaba shook her head, her steps finally slowly suddenly as though she'd run out of steam. "I just don't understand how this happened," she said, feeling rather lost. "In my world, my father loved my mother. I know he did. I know I was young when she died, but he was devastated when she died. He never got over her."

"This is true," Klehr confirmed. "But it takes two people in a relationship to make it work. And you've seen twice today what can sometimes happen when people marry young."

It took Elphaba a moment to make the connection, and when it clicked, all she could do was close her eyes to steel herself and huff out a wry laugh under her breath. "You said that there was potential for my mother to become… this. Was she cheating on my father in my world?"

Klehr's answer told Elphaba everything before she actually said a word. "She had," she confirmed.

Elphaba opened her eyes and looked to her. "Are Nessa and I Frex's children?"

"One of you is," Klehr replied delicately, and Elphaba nodded, averting her gaze and pressing her lips together. She didn't need Klehr to tell her which one, and Elphaba could only describe the sensation she felt as the truth sank into her bones as numbness.

"Did he know?"

"No," Klehr confirmed and Elphaba felt oddly disappointed.

That would have explained so much.

"Would you like to know who-?"

"No," Elphaba cut her off, shaking her head and staring up at the sky. "No, I really don't want to know."

Because what difference would that make? Perhaps back in her world, in her childhood, Elphaba may have found comfort in that truth. Maybe if the truth had been known, her relationship with Frex would have been different- it would have freed him from the shame of having fathered a green child, even if it meant bearing the shame of his wife's unfaithfulness. But now? Frex was long dead, and her mother too. There was no one to console Elphaba with explanations, and she could hardly seek out her biological father back in Oz, could she?

"Why?" she asked tiredly. "Why did she do it?"

Klehr sighed, gently placing a hand on Elphaba's arm. "I think she only knows for sure. But I would theorise- although it doesn't excuse it- that she was young and lonely, and someone else was giving her attention that Frex wasn't."

Elphaba pondered that as they walked along the lane back towards town. "What changed?" she asked at length.

"You were born," Klehr responded simply. "And born green. It scared Melena- she saw it as karma, as a punishment for what she had done."

Elphaba wrinkled her nose. "So, here, when Nessa was the first born and she was perfectly healthy, she what- thought she got away with it?"

"Something like that."

Elphaba thought of all the times that Frex had told Nessa how much she reminded him of Melena, and the way it had made Nessa beam proudly and left Elphaba feeling decidedly lesser, sure that Frex was partly saying it to hurt her. But now she wasn't sure if that was quite the compliment she'd always thought it to be.

"Your father always blamed you for Nessa's fate and the loss of your mother," Klehr said. "But did you ever consider what it meant for your mother?"

"It meant that she was dead," Elphaba replied flatly.

"It meant freedom," Klehr corrected her. "Her death, however tragic, spared her a long, unhappy marriage."

Elphaba's brow creased. "Why wouldn't she have left?" she asked, knowing even as she said the words that it was never that simple.

Klehr smiled knowingly. "Why do you think?"

That seemed like a ridiculous question to Elphaba, not when there was so much she didn't know. Her mother, who had always been a ghost at best to Elphaba, was suddenly a stranger. And her father, was no longer her father. But Elphaba still knew him, even if they weren't related.

"He never would have let her leave?" Elphaba guessed.

Klehr shook her head ruefully. "Especially not once Nessarose was born."

It didn't take much stretch of the imagination for Elphaba to imagine that. Even if by some miracle Frex had let Melena leave, he would have fought to keep Nessarose, and Elphaba had to imagine it wouldn't have been pretty. And Elphaba could only assume that Melena had also known that, and thus she would have stayed for her daughters.

"It's that simple, then?" she asked. "That's the big answer to how my parents are better off because I was born?"

"Well, your mother at least," Klehr allowed.

Elphaba rubbed at her forehead. "Right. Because my father isn't my father."

If Elphaba wanted to, she could rationalise a logical justification for the ways in which Frex might have preferred the life he'd had in her world to this one. Sure, he'd lost his wife, been stuck with one green daughter and another paralysed; but Elphaba supposed that at least he'd lost Melena believing (presumably) that she loved him as much as he loved her. And maybe he had died of shame because of Elphaba's actions, but at least Nessa had made him proud.

Elphaba would never be able to get the answers from either of her parents to know if they had been truly satisfied with the way their lives had gone in Elphaba's world. But after seeing what had become of her mother and sister in this world; and thinking about how there had once been a time when she had thought her future could only leave her as hopelessly stuck in Munchkinland as they seemed to be now, Elphaba had to wonder if Klehr was right.

AN. I wish I could say I made up "Ghesicuh", but according to namenerds on Reddit, this is a form of "Jessica" that someone has seen in the wild. Couldn't pass up the chance to use it here.

We've seen Nessarose and Melena, who do you think is next on the list?