Disclaimer: T'isn't mine.

Author's Note: I wrote this in all of twenty minutes while listening to a completely different book on CD. Not my best, but I had to put it up here! If anyone finds a fic with Dillamond in it, let me know. Enjoy!

He had known it was coming, to be sure. It was impossible not to notice Animals disappearing from society (and sometimes just disappearing... period). When he saw the lab coats, it was clear that he'd only a matter of hours, at most.

Dillamond rushed into class. He had too much that he needed to say and far too short a time in which to say it, but perhaps the students would remember something about this day. "Alright, take your seats, class!" he began in little more than professor reflex. "I have something to say, and very little time to say it. This is my last day here at Shiz; I am no longer permitted to teach. I want to thank you for your sharing your enthusiasm, your essays, no matter how feebly structured -- and even, on occasion, your lunch," he added with a grateful look at Elphaba. She was the only one looking worried rather than confused, the poor child.

He heard the quick, clacking steps of Madame Morrible behind him. "Doctor Dillamond!" she cried. "I'm so dreadfully sorry." She was followed by men, some in lab coats.

Elphaba stepped forward. "Madame, we've got to do something!"

"Miss Elphaba, they can take away my job, but I shall continue speaking out," Dillamond assured her bravely.

A scientist seized his arm. "Come on, goat." He and another man began to drag Dillamond out of the room.

Dillamond fought for just a few more seconds. "They are not telling you the whole story! Remember that, class! Remember that." With a last look at Elphaba's distraught face, the classroom was gone. A cry of, "Doctor Dillamond!" followed him down the hall.

It had been easier to put on a bold face in front of the students, but now the first wave of panic hit. It brought on a desperate, futile struggle; Dillamond twisted and kicked out with hoofed feet. One man crumpled with a howl of pain, but the other was quicker, grabbing a nearby blunt decoration. With a thud, Dillamond fell senseless beside one of the scientists.


He awoke... well, inside something. He looked around. It seemed to be a kind of box composed of crisscrossing lengths of metal. The important part was that he was inside and he didn't see any way out. He tested a part of the wall. It wasn't going anywhere. The room was dark and silent. He settled down patiently.

He was left there for a few hours with his thoughts. After a while, however, a scientist walked in and, bending down, shoved a little food between the bars of the metal contraption. Dillamond took one look at the half-wilted greens and realized how hungry he was. He watched the man leave and then began to eat. This happened regularly, and it was the only thing that reminded him that there was a place outside the room. After a few days alone, he began to despair of ever speaking out again.

Though Dillamond had room to stand in this metal box, he found himself, after a week or so, on all fours without knowing quite why. Later, in the middle of bitter musings, his mind would go blank. When he talked to himself, just to remember how, he would forget words, then phrases, then his train of thought. He forgot his very name.

Over weeks, it became harder and harder to concentrate. His mind became fogged. He could hardly remember anything. Every day, there was a dark room, bad lettuce, and always, always this... box. The most frustrating moments were the ones in which he would know that he had had a life, a family, friends. Once, he had learned, taught, and talked. But then the effort of thought would become too much and he would give in to blissful ignorance.

Within two months, there was no Dillamond.

The goat, once Dillamond - the animal, once and Animal - was eventually lead outside the cage and into another room. He would have been ecstatic, at one time, and he would have marveled at the majestic, throne like room. But now he just looked for grass and, upon finding none, lay down contentedly.

He hadn't been there very long when he was hastily covered with a sheet. This new predicament was considered with dim puzzlement and then dismissed. There were voices. He ignored them and experimented with eating the sheet.

Without warning, he was uncovered. He blinked blearily and looked up. Another human was reaching toward him; he shied away. She began speaking to him in the language of the humans.

In the back of the goat's mind, something stirred in recognition. Something cried out in the same unfamiliar language. The words almost took on meaning; he almost remembered something from before the cage. He almost remembered a name, a candy bar wrapper, and a promise. But it was all just out of the reach of the goat's mind. A goat couldn't possibly comprehend the meaning of chalk markings on a black surface. A goat, however strongly it felt about anything green, couldn't remember the name of the miserable-looking girl beside him.

Something in the back of his mind desperately shouted words he didn't understand. The goat just bleated.

Sad, no? Review!