Yep, finally. I was banned from my computer at home, so this was done during school. Sorry about thescrewed up formatting- Word's fault. This is unbetaed, I"ll upload that version later. All mistakes are totally mine, and sorry!

Anyways, I don't own Wicked at all, nor do I own Elphaba. I do own Nettle. But I'm not sure of the worth of that. I hope that you like it...

Elphaba was good at several things. She was quite good at making
biting sarcastic remarks. She excelled at schoolwork. She wasn't good at
magic and she would be one of the first people to say that. But she
was also quite good at running and hiding. And so she ran. Oh, she stayed the mercifully short hours left of the party, dished
out food, cleaned it all up. But she stuck to the shadows, slid about
the walls and turned away whenever someone tried to look her directly in
the eye. As soon as she could leave, she left. She didn't go in the
carriage with Linnet and her pointed questions; she walked the entire
way with Liir.

What an odd figure they made, an angular green woman draped in blacks
with a tall pointed hat and a little chubby boy grasping her by the
hand, walking along foresty, tree-lined paths to avoid human or Animal
contact. But she made it, well, home more or less safely. She went in
the store, past Linnet's confused face, and up to her rooms. And there
she cried, taking no notice of the slight stinging pain on her cheeks
that it brought. Liir pressed his hand into hers and Elphaba cried
more, confused about whom she was and what she wanted to be. She fell asleep that way, and the next morning she awoke to curious
blue eyes standing over her. She checked that Liir was still by her, and he was. It couldn't be
Fiyero... it wouldn't be no matter how hard she wished it so. No, she
made out a pale face and yellow curls. "Glinda." Elphie said. The blonde woman pulled her off the bed and
tried to hug her. Elphaba attempted to resist. "No," she said. "Not
now." "Yes, now," Glinda said. "Do you have any idea, Elphie, what I felt
last night?" Elphaba was irritated at the sight of Glinda's watery
eyes. "Oh, stop," the green girl said. "Don't cry over me. It's
useless." Glinda chuckled a little and wiped away a tear. "Glad to see that
you're still the same. Elphie-" Elphaba cut her off with a curt shake of her head. "I don't exist, Elphaba doesn't exist, and do you hear me?"

"Well, of course," said Glinda, exasperated. "I asked that Linnet
woman for some 'Annaele Tllie', so I know that you've gone under an
alias." Elphaba gripped Glinda's arm. "No, I don't exist to you, do you hear
me?" Then, the intensity in her dark eyes gone, she checked Liir was
still asleep. "I've been through enough, I don't want you dead also." "Also?" Glinda said. "Who also- oh. Fiyero." "Yes, Fiyero," Elphaba whispered. "So will you please, just, just go
and forget you saw me now?" "You loved him, didn't you?" Glinda asked her. "You loved him, more
than you loved Nessarose, more than you loved me-"

"Yes," Elphaba whispered and then, her animosity spent, she started
crying again. -------- He had woken up in a cell some months ago, covered in blood- his own
blood, he gathered. There's was no light in the cell, just rock. Southstairs, he had thought with dread. But how-?

He wracked his brains trying to think of what had happened. The
memories of his past awake month had been blurry, with images sliding in
and out like ice. There was Elphaba-Fae; he remembered farther back then that. He remembered going out to follow her and then coming back,
waiting for her maybe- and then the people, the Gale Force, had beat him
and hit his head and knocked him out. "How long?" He had croaked to a passing guard, voice rusty with
disuse. The guard had laughed cruelly.

"Oh, the Winkle Prince's waked," he'd said. "Good time, a year an'
an 'Alf you've been out like a light down 'ere. Don't 'spect to leave
soon, yer Maj'sty. Yer family thinks you under the dirt and cold."

"So I'm dead?" "You en't living." the guard said, than went on his way. Fiyero had
slumped back. Fae, he thought. Fae, dead or alive? Were the guards
meant for her? He had been there forever, more or less, and he'd stay forever too.
But then someone was shoved into his cell, a filthy pale little girl.
Her name sounded like 'Nettle', her accent was so thick. From that he figured that she was from Ev originally, so her name was more likely Netta or Netle. But Fiyero wasn't sure. He asked about her, an eleven year old creature. Arrested and almost dead for plotting rebellion against the Wizard. There had been four
other members in her cell, and from what she knew (which seemed to be little at first) only one besides her was left alive. After a week, she had begun to talk. "There was Trena, Jerimis, me, Wasil, and Fae. Or that was the code
names then. My code name was Reeba. On'y Trena lived after the Gale
Force went for us. I saw Wasil die, as we left under the cloaking spell.
Jerimis committed suicide I know, he was Trena's lover. I saw Trena
under her real name. Loralei. But I always think o' her as Trena." She
paused, and Fiyero gave the little girl his water. He needed to hear
more. "And this Fae?" he said casually, hoping it may have been her.

"Oh, yeah, Fae," Nettle said. "She jus' disappeared after a mission.
She may be livin'- she was green, you know. Trena 'n me went to a
mauntery for a week and there were a woman in a coma, had been that way
for a sevenmonth. She was green like Fae had said she was. On'y it was
more of a sicky color then." "Elphaba," Fiyero said quietly. Nettle looked up at him, taking the
liberty of having more of his water. She was delighting in telling her
tale to him, he could see that.

"What was that?" she said. Fiyero shook his head. "Go on about your Fae." He told her. Nettle shrugged. "A'ight." "So Fae was lying like a log on some mauntery cot. Trena went there after Jerimis ha' killed himself, she was that tired and sick of it all. I tried to help but I'm on'y 'bout eleven. Forgot me age. So Trena went to forget and she had caught sick. She was there an' we saw Fae. Like I said, she was in a coma. Her belly was huge. I asked some old maunt and they said she was pregnant. As if I couldn't see that! Th' maunt said that if she wouldn't wake they'd have to cut the babe out or sommat odd and Fae might die if she got infected. And then we left. So I think she's dead." Nettle shrugged. "And then me and Trena was caught, on'y Trena managed to 'scape
but I didn't. Some fool Guard recognized us, got us, and I didn't run fast enough. So I'm here. And you?"

"I was from the Vinkus, the Arjiki tribe," he said. "And the Guards
came to my room- well, the room I was going back to- and clubbed me
over the head and dragged me here. I got blood on my opera cape." He told
her, and then fell silent. Elphaba, Fae, Elphie. It repeated in his
head, a pointless refrain. "You knew Fae, did you?" Nettle asked curiously. "Cos you didn't ask
much 'bout Jerimis, or Wasil or Trena. I'm right, en't I?" Fiyero shrugged. "I knew her. At school." "And after," Nettle said slyly. "And after," he agreed. "And now she's dead and my family thinks I
am, and so be it." Nettle sighed. "I told you lots, s'not fair now."

Fiyero scowled. He was being interrogated by an eleven year old girl
now. "Nothing's fair."

"Aw, come on," the girl prodded. "If you tell, I think- I think-"

"You think what?"

"Well, ways to escape s'all."

Fiyero looked at the annoying child. "Ways that won't get us killed at the first move?"

"Possibly." Nettle said. "I know one of the Guards here sympathized wi' us, an' he's just down that way." She pointed, but Fiyero couldn't see through the dim haze in Southstairs.

"Right then," he said. "What do you want to know?"


Elphaba scrubbed at her eyes with a cloth, while Glinda patted her back sympathetically.

"Of course, Elphie dear, it's been so hard on you."

Elphaba sighed. "Glinda, the last time I really cried like this was after my mother died. Don't you understand? I don't cry."

"Well, then, fine," Glinda said. "We'll find a cheerier topic to chat about." She looked around the little room. "Like- oh! Tell me about your son!"

"There's nothing to say," Elphie said, clamming up immediately. "He was conceived and then born, both which I hope you know the process of."

"Yes," Glinda said. "What's his name again?"

"Liir." She stroked the sleeping boy's head, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Glinda, who smiled.

"Um," she said. "What's his birthday?"

Elphaba glared witheringly. "I don't care. I forgot. What about you? Do you have any children? I'd think that you would."

"And I'd think that you wouldn't," Glinda retorted. "But no, I do not have children."

"Lastly," Elphaba said. "Why are you here?"

Glinda looked astonished. "I'd think that it would be obvious," she said. "I miss you, Elphie."

Elphaba laughed coldly. "I don't believe it," she said.

"Well, believe it," Glinda told her. "Even with all your- quirks, I miss you." Glinda saw Elphaba roll her eyes. "No one mourns the wicked," she said.

"Oh, pish," Glinda waved a hand airily. "I miss you, and I'm called 'Glinda the Good' or something of the sort."

"And what exactly do you propose we do about this?" Elphaba said, half-joking. "You can't transplant yourself to this village you know."

Glinda paused for a bit. "No, but I'll think of something- oh! I know! You can come back to the Emerald City and live with me for a bit!"

Glinda was reminding Elphaba of those days when she was still Galinda, an airy-headed schoolgirl who cared about almost nothing else than herself. When she was silly and less mature.

"And that wouldn't work," the green girl said flatly. "For one, I have a job here. For two, I suspect I'm a wanted criminal. I am too green to be inconspicuous."

Glinda sucked in a breath. "A criminal? What have you done, Elphaba?"

"Several things. But I haven't killed anyone, don't worry." Almost haven't killed anyone, she added mentally. She had come quite close.

"Oh, Elphie," Glinda said. "Don't you understand? You left me alone. Not completely- but alone with Nessarose and Nanny and the rest of then. You disappeared. I mean, yes I knew that you were going to do it, well sort of. I suppose I had an inkling. But Elphaba, you know what I said to save you a seat in the Emerald City?"

"What?" Elphaba said, sucking in a breath. She struggled to keep her brow smooth and her face composed.

"I said you were my sister," Glinda said finally. "I've come from despising the sight of you to claiming you and I were blood. I think- I know I'm more of a sister to you than Nessa. She claimed she'd spit in your face and shun you if she saw you again."

"Sounds like her," Elphaba said dryly, and then blinked suddenly. "You said I was your sister? But why?"

"I don't know!" Glinda burst out. "Because people wanted your seat, and what else was I to say? Because you, with your odd habit of vanishing and reappearing, are a better friend than Pfannee or Milla or Shen-Shen ever were! Because I felt it!"

Elphaba was taken aback. "Oh," she said. "I- I didn't-"

"Didn't know? Of course not? You've been a- a felon for the past seven years! You've been running around the Emerald City blowing things up, I'm not stupid!"

"That is true," Elphaba said. "Although it wasn't only me. Glinda..."

"And now you're going to run again! That's all you do, run! You run from everything! You say that you're running to something, but no, you're running away, can't you see?"

"No I'm not," she replied automatically. "I'm not, not really!"

Glinda simply shrugged.

"I have missed you," she said, her voice tired. "I have,"

"I think I have, too," Elphaba said. "When- when I allow myself to think about it."


They sat there on the bed in silence for some minutes then, the still sleeping Liir between them. Then Glinda spoke up.

"But I still want to be able to see you," she said. "Can't you consider coming to the Emerald City? You could be something else, someone else. I suppose it could work."

"It could work," Elphaba pointed out. "Could isn't good enough. I wish it were." She sighed. They both lapsed into silence again.

"I'm sorry," Elphaba said. "I am."


Fiyero decided that being on the run from the Gale Force, escaping from Southstairs trapped under a false bottom of a hay wagon, having what looked like horse feces on his elbow and lying next to a nosy eleven year old girl who wanted to know too much was decidedly not fun at all.