A/N- ::laughs uneasily:: hah, hey, guys...I wasn't murdered or anything...I've been inspired to finish this. I think. But we'll see...It's not so good, but give me a break, k? Or..you don't have to. It's cool.

He stared out the big foggy window as the sun slowly set. This was the last he would ever sit here -- he hoped -- The Emerald City was no good. It was a damned city, doomed to sit here and rot slowly into a ghost town. Of course, that was only if it survived the rebellions and fighting.

"Are you serious about leaving tonight, Fiyero?" came Elphaba's voice from behind him.

He heard her nails slowly clicking on the table behind him. Everything that may or may not happen in her life depended on him, and only him, now. She had give up everything from her old life, and she was willing to sacrifice everything else just to keep herself secluded. Except for him. Fiyero was sure that after losing him once, Elphaba wouldn't let him go a second time. "I'm serious," he said, standing up. "We're leaving tonight. Pack only the necessities. Leave everything else behind."

Elphaba let out a heavy breath and walked to him. "What will we do when we're out….there? Just because it's dark doesn't we'll be safe."

Fiyero looked at her, trying to look through her eyes and into her mind. He saw no fear in her beautiful eyes, only apprehension. "No, but it's safer than daylight. We'll do the only thing we can: run." He turned to her and smiled softly. "Do you still have your infamous broom?" If she did, all of their prayers may have been answered.

"No. We won't use it," she said bluntly.

Out of pure understanding, he asked no questions, he only remarked, "It would be faster," before walking away from her.

"I know, but…I won't try and change your mind, Yero, but I refuse to ride that thing ever again. It only brought bad times upon me, and…It's evil, that's all," she finished, slightly flustered.

Fiyero furrowed his brow. He had never seen Elphaba do anything like that. Fiyero remembered almost every time he had been with Elphaba, and he had never seen her flustered before. All his remembrance of her was unscathed…

She wasn't really beautiful…not really. But she was the only thing that he saw. The only thing he cared about, and she was beautiful. She was so graceful, and cool -- she drove him crazy. She always would. It didn't matter if he died in here. It didn't matter if she were really dead. She was just as clear in his mind as the last time he saw her. He loved her, and always would.

What would become of him? For the first time he really pondered it, and found he didn't care. He sat in a dirty rotten cell all day. All night. All good things came to an end, but he was lead to purgatory. He would only wait for the new moon, hoping he would die soon. He only wanted her, for all of eternity…..

"What are you thinking?" she asked him, bringing him back to her.

"I was thinking…that…that…" he could only stutter. "Jail," he finished. It was simple and self-explanatory and she asked no more questions.

They both packed up Elphaba's few belongings without a word. There was nothing to be said between them, vocally. Even if they did speak, their voices would in no way express what they could say between eyes.

Packing was finished early. The sun had just set when they had let their weary legs and backs rest.

"This would be easier with the broom…."

"Stop it." She didn't dare tell him the truth. Elphaba could not have been considered to be stupid. She would have used the broom in a heartbeat, bad memories or not. The truth was that she didn't have. It had disappeared. It was her notion that Liir had it. How could she just tell Fiyero that someone else had it? He would ask questions: Who? How? When? And now was not the time she wanted to bring up Liir. She never wanted to bring up Liir again.

Fiyero smiled meekly. "It's too early now, I think. Wait for the town to stop its sleeping and wake up. That way they'll be too distracted to notice anyone other than themselves. But I know what we can do in the meantime."

"You're a disgusting pig, do you realize that? Do you?" she asked him.

He only smiled before grabbing her.

She later dozed off in his arms, and he let her sleep. The moonlight had begun to flood the room in its monochromatic glow. Fiyero sighed and blinked sleepily before laying his head down on the floor and staring at the ceiling. You claim to be freed, you see the change in things. So, isn't it strange that you're just the same? "I have to break this," he muttered, to no one in particular. "Wake up," he said, softly to Elphaba.

She didn't stir.

"Wake up." Fiyero grabbed her shoulder and shook her lightly. She moaned and stretched. "Come on, Fae. It's time."

Elphaba opened her eyes wide, the light of the moon shining deep into her pools of brown. Her eyes were hardened. Fiyero would never know what she was thinking, and he it suddenly dawned on him that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Fiyero suddenly had the notion to lean in and kiss her, and he did.

She smiled and covered herself in her dress, quickly pulled it over her head. Elphaba stood and observed the small space she had called her home, Hopefully for the last time…

"Come on, Elphaba, are you coming?" he asked softly. Fiyero realized that he had not called her to Elphaba in years. It was always Fae.

"There's no reason why not. Strike whilst the knife is hot." She grabbed everything she called hers and left without so much as another look behind her. Elphaba was not going to sit on her ass anymore, wishing for better days. Make it a reality.

"Make it a reality," Fiyero said from behind her, drowsily and innocently.

I don't know what I want. How can I take my dreams, myself, and liberate them, when I'm indecisive? My mountain of red anger is no longer dormant. All that I thought I had buried long ago is back. And I can't ignore it. All of this -- this is what I fought against for so long. This feeling is no longer just a feeling -- My ignorance of years ago is just a haze. "Make it a reality," she whispered under her breath. I don't like reality. It's all too clear to me.

They were there and the sour smells of the city bore down on them; the smells of death. Very few live people were visible, bodies lined the streets in a gruesome array of paganism. "A sick way to be religious," muttered Fiyero with disgust. Overturned carts, dead animals, and molding food also lay in the street, and Elphaba watched as rats scampered across the dirty gold road -- a regular party. She shook her head. Things were worse than either of them could have ever imagined.

Fiyero grabbed Elphaba's hand and began to run. "What the…?"

"We don't have all that much time, Elphaba. We won't make it anywhere on foot. Just trust me, alright? I know what I'm doing."

But did he really? This wasn't his twisted idea of twisted fun, this was their life - their only chance to escape the purgatory of the Emerald City. Fiyero turned his head toward the depths of the city and saw that emerald building. Once so beautiful and promising, he could only regard it with hate now. It loomed over them, as if watching their every move. Fiyero felt a knot in his stomach.

"Fiyero!" Elphaba planted her feet and Fiyero tripped over his own legs. "How far can we go before we admit that we have problem that we can't fix?" she asked him, her cheeks rosy, her chest rising quickly.

"Look," he said, standing and rubbing dirt from his knees. "If I remember correctly, there's a stable near here."

"Horses? Are you kidding me?" Elphaba shook her head. "There's a little concept called 'Strength in Numbers.' There's two of us. Alright? One. How are we ever going to make it across town --just the two of us, mind you-- without being killed? There's at least one thousand people dispersed around here. Two. Who's to say if that stable's still even there? And what if all the horses are dead?"

Of course, Elphaba made an excellent point. Fiyero didn't know the answer to any of the questions, he didn't need to. He only knew that his Vinkan intuition told him to do it, and he was going to trust it. Otherwise, they would never breakthrough. "Please, Elphaba, just trust me."

She nodded and took his hand again. Fiyero took a path off the road, an old park, he figured. It was disgusting. It was offensive. Branches scratched at their tender cheeks, breaking skin and making them bleed. If there had been no pain, Fiyero would have guessed that they were in a dream. But it was all real. It was there: blood, sweat, and fears. This was reality if nothing else was.

This was real. Fiyero felt extremely free at the present moment, even slightly aroused. He allowed himself a little smile as they ran. They were taking full control.

Then Elphaba tripped, and caused a chain reaction. Fiyero fell to his face and felt something in him crack. He gasped for air beneath the monochromatic beauty of the full moon -- full of promises, full of deceit. Fiyero was watching the waves of his consciousness recede as he felt something cold and metallic slam against his wrists, and Elphaba moaned…and then there was nothing.

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