Please do not read this if that will trigger you. I do not want to trigger anyone.

This is crazily AU. Like… It doesn't even have a legit plot. I was looking through the Imagine your OTP blog on Tumblr, and found something and used it as a prompt. So.

I can't really say enjoy because that would require something happy, but I hope you like it?

Also I don't think there are any grammatical errors, but I didn't check it over because I'm too lazy. Please forgive me if you happen upon some.

You is Glinda in this story, obvs. I felt second person was the most powerful way I could write this. Fanfiction guidelines tells me that you can't upload any type of interactive fic (2nd person POV), but this isn't really interactive, so? Yeah, you're Glinda.

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim to own any of the characters/ideas/settings of the Wicked Years books/Wicked the Musical.

"Glinda, I'm sick."

Your hand sits entangled with a green one as your lover lies dying. You're having a hard time believing what's happening, how it could be happening, why. Elphaba was the truly good one here, not you. You don't deserve to be healthy, she does. Although maybe this is your punishment; watching the only person you really love die, the only person who ever actually meant anything and loved you for you. This is your punishment for being a fake, attention-hungry, bratty rich girl. Elphaba of course disagrees with this.

Ever the realist, she states, "These things happen, my sweet."

All you want to do is scream and cry and destroy everything in your pathway; except for her. You want to keep her safe and warm. You want to hold her and make sure everything is going to be alright. She says it will be, but you know it won't. She's becoming too weak to even sit up anymore. This flu that was gone for three decades has come back with a vengeance.

It's nighttime now, and you're laying up there with her. You're both on your backs, and she smiles over at you, trembling hand reaching for yours. You give it to her immediately and hold it protectively.

"I love you, Elphie," you say, bringing her smooth green hand up to your mouth to kiss it.

Elphaba returns, "I love you too, Glin," with a smile.

You're feeling sentimental, so you begin speaking. You talk to her for hours about all of your adventures together, sweet little things that she's done that you'll never forget ever. You're trying your hardest to be strong for your Elphie and the verdant woman knows it. It's touching, and beautiful just like she thinks you are. You know after all your shit you're not truly beautiful. Not like your Elphaba.

It's midnight when you look over and realize she's fallen asleep, the soft rise and fall of her chest giving you relief. You cuddle into her and kiss her forehead, murmuring, "I love you," before falling into a slumber yourself.

When you wake in the morning, you kiss her cheek quickly again, still beyond thankful for the rise and fall. You run downstairs to make her breakfast, and when you come back up, you set the tray on the bedside table.

"Elphie, I brought breakfast," you murmur with a smile as you pour tea into a cup.

You don't receive an answer, which is odd. You usually do. You set the kettle down and reach for her hand, "Elphie, you're so cold, are you-…"

Then you notice her chest isn't rising and falling anymore. You shake your head and place a hand on her cheek, "Elphaba? Elphie, wake up. Stop playing around with me." She'd done it once before and had promised not to do it again.

"Elphie you promised! Wake up!" you exclaim, shaking her gently by the shoulder.

"Elphaba, you promised me, you promised!" you cry. Your blue eyes are glistening with tears and it takes a millisecond for them to start cascading down your face, "You promised, Elphaba, you promised! You can't break a promise! Wake up!"

You're screaming at her, and you can hear footsteps coming towards the room. You turn and lock the door before the maids can come in. Elphaba still isn't moving and you suddenly wish it was a cruel joke. You take her limp body into your arms and cling to her, crying into her cold neck as you rock her, "You promised!"

Your voice has never trembled so violently before. Never has this amount of tears graced your face at one. Never have you realized before this very moment that you need her to even survive. You can't go on without her. She promised you wouldn't have to.

You think back to last night, how she smiled while you talked about times when she wasn't sick, how she was so strong all the time and how she cared so deeply for you even when you didn't deserve it.

Now she's gone and you weren't even here to see her go.