A/N: Randomness and inspiration from a surprising source…Grey's Anatomy. All I'll say about that is Derek should die for being a rat bastard and Meredith should get together with Boq since she's obviously heartless, and poor, poor Addison, what a moronic husband she has. Seriously, why does everyone love Meredith?

Disclaimer: Neither Wicked nor Grey's Anatomy is mine. Neither is the Shakespeare line I borrowed. A Midsummer Night's Dream.

I am broken. I am broken and I Can. Not. Get. Up.

I am never getting off this floor again. I will stay here, like this, until I am a pile of bones. Until I am dust. Until that window breaks and the snow comes in and evaporates all that is left of my sad green body. I will stay here curled farther into myself than I knew a grown woman could be and ignore the voice that is my own head.

You're better than this. You're stronger than this. You can get up, off of this floor, and walk out of here, and live.

No. No I can't.

It will hurt like hell, but you've hurt like hell before. People die. Animals die. And the ones who love them pick themselves up and keep living, no matter how much they want to die, too.

Not always.

Frex did. Frex picked himself up after Melena died. Do you want to be worse than he is? Less than he is? Weaker than he is?

I don't give a damn. I don't, I don't, I don't.

You are strong. You are independent. You are knit of iron and whiskey. You have a spine of steel.

I AM TIRED OF BEING STRONG! I am tired. So tired. But my eyes aren't working. My eyes won't close. My head won't move.

Glassy, glassy eyes. No no no no no. Cold, cold skin. No. Blood, blood everywhere, but it is drying; there is no more blood flowing. No!

I am so tired, so, so, tired, empty and tired and dead, but I cannot close my eyes here. They are open and even if I closed them all I would see here is him.

I have to leave.

Somehow, this thought is clear, icy clear.

How do I stand? I don't remember. How odd.

Shaking palm to icy floor. Other palm. Push. I don't remember weighing so much. It feels like I am supporting a thousand pounds on these two thin wrists.

I fall and slide forward on the floor slick with blood. Blood all over me, blood everywhere.

But I have to leave. Have to stand.

Palm, palm, push. On my knees, but God and Lurline and Kumbricia did not care. They laugh at me; I am funny in my pain, the funny green girl covered in lover's blood. She thought she could have something of her own, she thought she could have love. Lord, what fools these mortals be. On my knees, push back on my toes like a cat, like Malky, bloodstained cursed Malky, marked forever. Push onto my heels, push the weight of my leaden stone body up. One foot in front of the other, faster, faster, faster, faster, back the way you came. Back, back, back. Back to where it all started…back to before I opened my heart and it got ripped out and spilled all over the floor.

I knock on the chapel doors and collapse into myself. I have done my duty. I am away, away, away from it. I am tired, so tired, and as soon as the door opens I can sleep, sleep like the Time Dragon, hide from time like Saint Aelphaba, sleep for a thousand years until my life is just a dream or a memory. Sleep until even I forget.