#glinda would giggle as elphaba spins her

[cronchy-baguette]

pink goes good (well) with green

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTE: Trigger warning for racism. To be historically accurate, I should have used a certain word other than "negro" but I can't bring myself to type it.

This chapter and the ones following were hard enough to write as it was. Apologies to anyone who might feel offended or upset by parts of this chapter, but as I said, I was trying for historical accuracy, and sometimes that means writing awful, difficult, uncomfortable things.

Also, I was listening to American McGee's Alice soundtrack while writing these chapters. Seemed to fit.

They made sure to bring the Magic Picture down and have it hung in Ozma's chambers. That way, it would remain safe in the safest of rooms in the Palace, and be somewhere easy to view at anytime. Nessa had expressed a worry that it wouldn't function if removed, but that turned out to be groundless, for it continued shifting to show prairies and lakes and mountains all the way down the stairs and halls to its new home. A few times, it shifted to show someone they were speaking about during their idle conversations while moving it — including Ozma, and it was a strange sight indeed to see Ozma carrying a painting of herself, carrying a painting of herself, carrying a painting of herself, ad infinitum.

"You'd better come back to me," Glinda told her as they got ready for bed. Her eyes were drawn to the smooth green skin that she so often had to force herself not to caress. She didn't always succeed.

However, Elphaba was so uncomfortable going any further that she refrained. It had begun to worry Glinda. She knew things would function differently between two women, and she was past the point of worrying about it and ready to embrace finding out what those differences might be. But her sweet artichoke was not ready. To snuggle, and kiss, and occasionally caress, yes, but not to explore beyond those activities. She understood, even if it was a bit frustrating.

"I will, you worrywart," Elphaba sighed impatiently, tossing the dress onto the bureau and reaching for the nightgown. But before she could catch hold of it, two arms slid around her stomach. "Ooh… wh-what is it?"

Leaning her cheek against the bare back of the woman who had come to mean everything to her, Glinda urged, "You'd better." Then she kissed her shoulderblade. It only took a moment before Elphaba turned, and she kissed again, from collarbone up to neck. Fingertips were ghosting over her back through her own dress.

"Want some help with this?" Elphaba asked in such a soft tone that it was like a shower of eider down, caressing her cheeks as it fluttered past toward the ground.

"Yes. I do, so much…"

In no time, they had it off and resting next to Elphaba's. Her gaze was fixated on Glinda's as she reached for their nightgowns again, as if knowing she would be stopped. So when she was, it was not nearly as much of a surprise as the first time. Hands touched, eyes met. Stomachs brushed against each other as they began to slowly spin, wrapped up in each other so deeply that all else fell away.

"Elphie… do you ever regret… any of it?"

As was her way, she never spared Glinda's feelings. "Parts of it. But not this."

"You don't wish… Fiyero…?"

Even if it might have been a slight fib, Glinda couldn't pretend she wasn't pleased with Elphaba's response. A green thumb and forefinger pinched her chin, and a soft voice whispered, "Fiyero who?"

The next kiss lasted nearly twenty minutes. And led to many more, and a few other experiments besides. It certainly made her leave-taking that much more memorable.

                                        ~ o ~

"Make sure you remember her name is 'Dorothy Gale'," Nessa was fussing the following morning as Elphaba checked and rechecked her pack, making sure she had a few basic essentials. Mostly spare clothing, apples, some bread and cheese. They had found a few drab old dresses in one of the shops in town, which Elphaba was wearing now; they all remembered too well the hideous thing Dorothy had been wearing when she arrived, and the only slightly better one she had changed into for travelling. The Grimmerie most certainly couldn't be taken along, but Elphaba had a fair bit of it memorised already; that was her best line of defense.

"Yes, Mother."

"And that they might not have our level of magical understanding; a lot of really normal magical things seemed to shock her when she was here."

"Yes, Mother."

While Nessa was rolling her eyes and tutting at that, Ozma was sizing her and Glinda up. She had been helping prepare, of course, but was distracted during the work.

"Something's different."

"What's different?" Glinda asked innocently.

"You two. It's like you have this kind of… extra energy."

"Oh, don't be silly, Little Ozzie! We're just nervous about sending Elphie into another country, that's all."

"No… no, I don't think that's it." But she couldn't seem to quite place her finger on the real cause of the healthy glow in their skin. Glinda decided that the sooner they got Elphaba sent off through space and time, the less likely the virgin girl would be to catch on. All in all, she had to thank her lucky stars that their queen was so very young, and Nessa so very inexperienced despite her age.

"All set?" she asked Elphaba, as they exchanged a bemused glance when the others couldn't see.

"I am, Sugarsnap. Ready as I'll ever be."

Ozma rounded Glinda and embraced the taller witch, head falling to her shoulder. "Oh… I feel like such a bad ruler, letting you run off! Doesn't it make more sense to send a guard? N-not that their lives are worth less, but you just… these past months, I've really…"

Glinda had to giggle at how affectionate she was being. Once they had gently wafted away that brusque bravado Tippetarius had blown into the Emerald City with, there was such a sweet, caring, earnest girl underneath. If she and Elphaba ever had children, she wished for a dozen or more, and for them all to be exactly like Ozma.

"I'll be fine," Elphaba reassured her, pushing her back gently to arm's length. Nessa put a hand on her shoulder to help reassure. "It's no use sending a soldier to do a friend's job, and a friend's job is to look after other friends. Even ones who tried to kill her once bef-"

"Oh, enough, Fabala!" Nessa grumped. "Learn to let it go, or we'll all spend the rest of our lives sighing when you bring it up!"

The use of her childhood nickname was what silenced Elphaba, and it was a dirty tactic… that tended to work when coming from Nessarose. Glinda only got smacked for it, so she had ceased to try.

"Alright, Ozma," Glinda said in a voice of forced cheeriness. "Do the belt-thing! The sooner Elphie takes care of business, the sooner we can put all this behind us."

"Now, you remember the signs," Nessa said firmly. "If we look in on you this time tomorrow and see you holding up a hand, palm-out, we'll know you want us to wait. Otherwise, when the hour comes…"

Elphaba nodded. "Yes. You'll wish me back, I know. Alright… whenever you're ready."

As Ozma wrapped her fingers around the magic belt, Nessarose stepped to the Magic Picture and said, "Show me Dorothy."

This scene was no better than the one before. She wasn't reading, but curled up on the bed, no blanket to cover her. There was some small comfort in seeing her pink feet twitching against each other, for it meant she had found a way to prise loose the golden shoes, but that was more or less the only heartening aspect of the scene. The creature in the bed was forlorn and wasted, her gown a little grimy from not having been washed recently enough. Glinda could bear to look at it no longer, but she forced herself to do just that; this was their friend, the one who had helped defeat Morrible and oust Elphaba's father. And this was what had become of her. It was unjust and offensive to her Gillikin sensibilities.

"Alright," Ozma said, widening her stance. "Just now… I think you will see something interesting."

And they did. For this time, Ozma only screwed up her lovely emerald eyes and glared at the painting, as if it had made a jest about her weight. And with no more than that, no uttered word, Elphaba vanished from the real world, and appeared in the one comprised of tinted oils.

                                        ~ o ~

The first thought that came to Elphaba was that something felt wrong. If asked to explain what, she would have been unable to come up with it off the top of her head at that moment. However, if asked later, she would know she felt constricted somehow. Heavier, as if her bones were comprised of lead weights. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but somehow, even though she didn't know why, she knew it was because of Kansas, not something within herself.

After a moment to try getting used to that sensation, she noticed Dorothy had not even stirred. It took a few seconds, during which she had begun to hesitantly walk toward her bed, before Dorothy even blinked. Another few steps, and her eyes found the visitor.

"Nnnn?"

"Hello," Elphaba whispered. Not that she fully understood why she was whispering; just an innate feeling that she should be that tingled up the base of her spine. "Dorothy… do you remember me?"

Her eyes drooped a little more. "Nnn… don't remember… any negro woman…"

Those words made no sense to Elphaba, but she had other matters that were of pressing importance. By now, she was standing by Dorothy's bedside, hitching a pained smile into place. Her roommate was always better at that sort of thing. "Glinda and Nessa and I, well, we've all been very worried about you."

"Glinda? Nessa?" Her eyes focused a little more, and she rolled her head so that she could look up at her. The sunken eyes and standing-out cheekbones were a lot easier to see from this angle. "Oh… is that you, Miss… Elphaba? Only you don't seem… the same… what are you doing here?"

"Trying to talk to my old friend, if you can believe that. Not that you're much for conversation. What in Oz is the matter with you?"

"Oh… that's the… medicine…" Her eyes flicked to a small metal cup on the floor near the bed; it reminded Elphaba of an overlarge thimble. "It makes me… tired, and not feel like… doing anything…"

The word 'medicine' certainly sharpened her focus. "Are you ill? Come now, what's happened to you since you got whisked back here?"

Her sunken eyes filled with sorrow, making her appear haunted. Perhaps she was. "It's… dreadful… but I don't… they've just given me another…" This time, she couldn't seem to get the word out because it was quite simply too difficult for her to voice. "Ooh…"

"That's alright," she hurried to reassure her, petting up and down her side through the dingy gown. "You don't have to come up with all the gory details. Just answer me this: are you happier here? Did you find what you wanted to find in Kansas?"

That only seemed to make matters worse. Tears swam in Dorothy's eyes, even if she couldn't quite articulate why. However, before Dorothy could find her voice again, the door to the room creaked open noisily, filling the air with the sounds of metal scraping.

"What are you doin' in here, girl?!"

Elphaba looked up at her, stomach tightening. It was a woman about twenty or more years her senior, if the wrinkles and bags under her eyes were any indicator. She knew she couldn't trust that people of Kansas aged quite the same as people of Oz. She was somewhat plump, and her messy brown hair was pulled into a taut bun at the base of her skull. Over her plain, pale blue dress was an apron, and in said apron's pocket bulged several small articles.

"Begging your pardon," Elphaba began hesitantly. This was a difficult situation; she didn't want to alarm the woman. "This girl seemed very upset, and I wanted-"

"Ain't your job to look to the patients' health, girl! That's for the doctors! You're only here to tidy! Now go on — git!" She shooed her hand toward the door, stepping to one side. Elphaba didn't much care for being spoken to as if she were no more than a pet, so she bristled as she stood.

"I haven't any right to ask how she's feeling?"

"You mind your place! Y'know, I told 'em — I told 'em we can't emancipate the coloureds and give 'em jobs, they just ain't trained for any such thing, and here I's right. Can't even think to mind y' own business. I'll have you out on your ear if I catch ya sittin' on a patient's bed again, y'hear? Now the sheets'll hafta be bleached!"

Now, she was far more incensed than she had been before. How dare this woman who spoke so bizarrely treat her, a complete stranger, as if she were some sort of unclean animal? But she didn't have much choice but to take it; if she riled up the locals too much, she wouldn't have a chance to ask Dorothy the question again and try to catch hold of an answer.

But there was something else she could do. Raising one hand, she chanted under her breath a little sleeping spell she knew; it was as likely to simply make the other woman yawn as to drop her to the floor, but it bore testing out.

Nothing happened.

"Whatta you mutterin' there?" Then the woman began to look vaguely panicked, swallowing hard, her double-chin bobbing up and down. "Don't you try that- that voodoo on me! Unchristian nonsense! Get on outta here, girl, g'wan!" She snapped her fingers and gestured swiftly at the door.

So Elphaba had no choice. It was either capitulate, or find herself in the kind of serious trouble that might have consequences for one or both of them. She muttered, "Yes, ma'am" and took her pack, heading for the door. The woman definitely eyed the pack with some suspicion, but didn't stop her; now she was too focused on Dorothy, on getting the unwilling girl to stand so she could strip the bedclothes off to be laundered.

What on Oz had she landed herself in?

Once out in the hall, she saw another woman with dark, smooth skin like that of some of the Vinkan regions, scrubbing the floor with a mop. She only hesitated a moment; it was much too important that she have answers than to worry about upsetting another local. Besides, now she might have a bit more success because she was more mentally prepared to meet one than before. She walked up to her and kept her voice low, for fear of incurring the plump matron's wrath.

"Excuse me, I'm afraid I'm a little lost," she whispered. "I thought this was…" What excuse could she make? "I thought this was the apothecary."

"Apothewhaaa?" the woman asked back, eyes widening and eyebrows shooting up. "Lord, I ain't never heard o' nothin' like that, miss!"

"My mistake. Then… where might I be now? If not there."

The woman stood back and whistled low. "You talk mighty fine. One o' them educated coloureds what the Union likes to brag about. Ain't expected of us, don't have to put on airs 'round me none."

The way this woman spoke confused Elphaba as much as the other woman. Did everyone from Kansas jumble up their words in such a strange fashion? Dorothy had as well, to a lesser degree, but the longer she had spent with Glinda and Elphaba, she had seemed to lose that strange tendency to let her tongue wander. Shaking the thoughts free of her mind, she put her pack down and sighed.

"Nevermind my diction, friend. What's your name?"

"Angeline, miss. An' yours?"

"Elphaba." Another whistle, and a slight chuckle. "Something funny about that?"

"We ain't supposed to carry on with those old names! Not that I heard that one before. Y' mama musta been stubborn, or proud on account of bein' a free negro. But fine, fine, I like the sound of it. 'Elphaba'... mmm-mm. Like a cousin o' mine, named Phoebe."

Feeling distinctly confused by whole concepts within that response, she then repeated, "Where am I, Angeline? I wouldn't wish to upset anyone if I'm in the wrong place."

"Why, Topeka Insane Asylum, Miss Elphaba. Ain't you seen the sign above the door when you came in?" Then she looked a little suspicions, shrewdly squinting at her. "Y' did come in the front door… right?"

"I didn't notice any sign," she said truthfully. Simply leaving out the part that she hadn't used any door, either. "My apologies. Did you say… an asylum for the insane?"

"Yes'm. All kind that ain't right in the head here. Some worse than others."

"What about that girl whose room I came from just now? She seemed… tired more than anything."

Her eyes lowered to her mop handle in regret. The kind of vague regret a person holds for a total stranger in a dire situation, but whose life doesn't affect their own. "Shame, that girl… runnin' her mouth all the time about flyin' brooms an' houses, talkin' lions, an' I don't know what else. Been through the talkin' cure, and put her on medicine to keep her all calm-like. An'..."

The specific way Angeline went quiet told Elphaba something worse had happened. It was obvious as anything could be, but she was trying to do a good job of pretending it didn't affect her. She suspected the woman spent a lot of effort pretending the goings on within the asylum were not, in fact, going on.

"Angeline…" Maybe she shouldn't, but she reached out and laid a hand on the woman's shoulder. "I can't stand idly by while an innocent girl is hurt."

"What's it matter t' us? Some white girl sees crazy things. Maybe… maybe it really will help her…" Those words, she definitely didn't believe, even as they were coming out of her own mouth.

"What will?"

"The shocks." She swallowed hard, her multiple braids bouncing as her head swung back toward the door, then she leaned in to whisper to Elphaba, "Y'ain't heard none o' this from me. But they beat her, miss. Not too bad, not like a man come home from a bash, but I seen the bruises. Talkin' doctor couldn't make her see sense on his own, an' musta tried to beat the crazy outta her. Slapped her once or twice, I reckon. Blacked her eye. Then… they went on with 'lectricity. Been tryin' to use that over in Europe, I hear tell, and this fancy talkin'-doctor said to try it on li'l Miss Dorothy. Ain't right, I think, but… I ain't get paid to speak my mind. Lucky to have work with pay, now, ain't I?"

A long moment of pure horror kept Elphaba from answering. An insane asylum. They didn't have such things in Oz, but they did have the occasional person who was too mentally unstable to be allowed to live amongst the other citizens. Their usual method of treatment was isolation, and to have a doctor check in on them and speak with them at length. Hopefully untangle the knots within their mind. It sounded like they had tried that with Dorothy, as well, and had not been satisfied with the results. The beating was horrendous enough; she wasn't sure she wanted to know what 'shocks' meant precisely. The worst part was…

It was all their fault. If Angeline was right in her assessment, or in what she had overheard at any rate, the reason they locked Dorothy up and tried to "treat" her was because she had mentioned the many things she saw in Oz. Though she had often remarked that they didn't have talking lions, or a good portion of other wonders she marvelled at that Elphaba thought mundane, she'd never given any thought to what the reverse meant. That Kansas was a place without such wonders, and speaking about them would be perceived as madness.

"How… how many times?" she croaked.

"Only once, so far. Ain't heard if they plan for more; she still a little shook up from the first time. Poor girl."

"Listen," she went on in a whisper, eyes pleading. "I've got to have time to speak with Dorothy. At least a few minutes. Is there any way you could help me arrange that?"

The woman's eyes squinted again. "You some reporter? I ain't never seen one of us workin' for the papers. Then again, you pretty light-skinned; some kinda poster child for education." Still, she let that line of questioning go easily enough, gaze sweeping the corridor. "Come back at nine, miss. They ain't check the patients again 'til come up on ten. An hour enough?"

"Bless you," she whispered urgently, squeezing her shoulders and making the woman laugh at her again.

"You're the craziest one here, I reckon. Stickin' a negro nose in where it don't belong. But…" Her eyes softened slightly. "I also reckon you the only one who might care what happens to that poor girl. Lord wouldn't have me ignorin' that, would He?"

"Daresay he wouldn't," she agreed, even though she wasn't sure what Angeline meant. But she'd often heard Dorothy mention "the Lord", so she supposed he must be in some position similar to that of Wizard or King. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me for nothin'. 'Cause I ain't told you nothin'… remember?" She tapped the side of her nose before going back to mopping. Elphaba wasn't sure what the gesture was supposed to mean, but regardless had figured out that the entire discussion, officially, never took place.

Not knowing what else to do with herself until she could speak with Dorothy again, Elphaba found the nearest washrooms and went inside, staring at her face for a few seconds. It took that long for the reality of the situation to fully register.

Her skin wasn't green.

A few of the comments Angeline had issued made more sense now; her skin was a brownish tint, though not so deep as her new acquaintance's. It took her fully five minutes to remember why she was there and what she was doing, so distracted was she by the sight. Oh, how many times she had wished her green away! It was a dream come true!

"I'm beautiful," she breathed as she gazed into the mirror at the chestnut skin, fingers probing her cheek gently, watching the skin dimple and flex. Proving to herself that this was real. Of course, there were still a dozen minor things about her face and her body that she would change if given the chance, and she was vaguely worried about how she had lost her verdant hue… but in that moment, none of those mattered. She was finally degreenified. Free!

Then she shook herself from this vain lapse in judgment to refocus on the task at hand. There would be plenty of time to indulge in that later. She glanced into her pack as she thought furiously about what her next move would be. It occurred to her at some point that she had no idea what time it was, so she couldn't exactly know when nine should strike… so she had to venture out into the hallways prematurely.

Except the moment she did, she had another grand surprise awaiting her. In light of that, she was starting to think she may have had her fill of surprises for a good while.

"Oh my- HELP!" screamed some young woman in a white outfit, wearing what Elphaba could only think of as an entirely stupid hat that served no aesthetic or functional purpose. "Th' toilets… a coloured girl-!"

After a second or two, she noticed more murmuring around her. This wasn't going well. Even though she couldn't understand what had happened, or why some of the gathering staff and patients looked highly affronted, she flashed them a pained, embarrassed smile and pushed through the crowd. Belatedly, she heard a few men shouting the words 'whites only', and that they should follow her-

But she had already taken up refuge in a closet. Elphaba had seen plenty of unruly mobs before, due to her two-year stint as Wicked Witch of the West; she knew what the forming of one was like, the shape it took before evolving to a higher form of ugliness. Much better to spend an uncomfortable stretch of time sitting on a stack of dirty old rags than to have to run for that entire time, instead. Footsteps sped past, but none of them ever so much as hesitated in front of the closet door.

"What in Oz was that supposed to mean?" she muttered to herself once the commotion had died down. "What are 'whites only'? Was that a laundry room? Imagine, having a laundry room for each different colour of clothing. How pointless! People in Kansas know how to squander their resources."

As she gazed down at her blue dress — apparently the 'wrong' dress — she tried to recall if she had seen what time it was. She hadn't. Then she remembered something else that had been bothering her.

She had no magic. Of course, now she knew what the strange sensation she had been feeling when she first entered the world of Kansas was: her power leaving her. Or perhaps it was being suppressed? Either way, there was something about this country that separated her from the magic that she had so long enjoyed. Even before enjoying it, she had thought it a burden, but it had been a part of her. For the first time in her life, it was a part cut off entirely. Permanently, or temporarily? That terrified her even more.

But either way, she had a job to do or she'd never get out of Kansas. When all was quiet, she slipped back out into the hallway and took a few steps; there was no sign of the mob. A little further along, she spotted another such room that said "COLOREDS", so she nipped into there.

The difference was striking. It was an indoor toilet, as she had thought the first was until all the laundry talk took place. But this one was more rudimentary. A lot of the surfaces were made of old wood, and the floors were dingy and unpolished. And the commodes themselves looked distinctly less comfortable.

"Now I'm glad I don't have to go," she muttered to herself.

"OH!" gasped another woman as she entered, clutching at her heart. "My goodness, you- why…" Then she squinted. "You new here? Ain't seen you around before."

"Elphaba," she said shortly. "Do you have the time?"

"Time for what? Oh-" She smiled when she caught the meaning before needing Elphaba to explain. "Yes'm, it's… well, it'll be half past eight now."

"Thank you," she sighed, turning to enter one of the toilets. She didn't have to use it, but figured it was easier than engaging in a full conversation with a total stranger. Those had varying levels of success thus far.

As she listened to the other woman washing her hands, perched on the closed lid of the commode with her elbows resting on her knees and chin resting on her clasped fists, she tried to make sense of what she had been seeing. People being angry about laundry, which was done in toilets. Lack of magic. An entire building purely for those who were mentally infirm, and one that seemed to believe they were fragile as glass if the padding on the walls and ceiling were any indication. And for some reason, she had this sense that she wasn't welcome by some people. Whatever the division was, maybe it had something to do with her clothing.

Some time later, she heard another person enter the washroom. It had been roughly the right amount of waiting around. Stepping free, she again asked for the time, and found it to be just a few minutes after nine, so she nodded to herself, took up her pack, stopped to briefly drink from a water fountain, and again forged her way down the darkened halls to Dorothy's room.

It was locked.

"Curse this infernal place," she muttered, jiggling the handle. The door was reinforced with metal of some kind, so she knew she wouldn't be able to break it down. This was going to put a serious crimp in her plans!

Then she heard a tinkling on the floor next to her. A key. Big, ugly, and rusted, but it looked like it might fit the lock. By the time she looked over, Angeline was already pushing her mop further down the hallway, barely even glancing over her shoulder to make sure Elphaba had noticed. And that was all. She had to wonder just how connected this member of janitorial staff really was if she had such an easy time coming up with keys to locked doors… but now was not the time.

Once the key was in the lock, it rasped loudly as it turned, and Elphaba cringed. But at that moment, Angeline was the only one in the hall, so she quickly slipped inside and shut it behind herself. All she could hope was that no one came to investigate.

Dorothy was basically exactly as she had left her, except facing the other way. Even having their attention forcibly drawn to her, the so-called caretakers hadn't thought to change her gown yet. Didn't they bathe the patients? Didn't they care about them at all? This time, Elphaba crossed the room and crouched on the other side so that she could look into her face — and perhaps duck out of sight if anyone came to check on her. It was a vain hope, given that there was practically nothing to hide behind, but if someone were rather careless, they might miss the second person in the room.

"Dorothy."

It only took a moment for her unfocused eyes to flutter open. Then she smiled. "Miss Elphaba. It was you… I didn't dream… the whole thing."

"Can you speak to me?"

"A little better today, I reckon. On account of…" Her hand opened, showing that there was a large white oval in her palm. It looked as if it had been partially dissolved. "Spat it out when the… old hag left… more ornery than a goat."

"You haven't taken your medicine? Won't you get worse if you don't take it?"

Dorothy frowned across at her, swallowing thickly. Her breaths were slow and laboured. "Nothin'... wrong with me, Elphaba. They think… 'cause I wasn't very bright and told them all about Oz… that I'm… that I lost my marbles. Don't know why I… wasn't very bright… almost believed 'em, that I was crazy, but… I know you was no hallucination, or whatever they… say you were."

It was clear to her now that she had been right about the reasoning behind Dorothy's incarceration in this institute of insanity. She only hoped Angeline had been wrong about her treatments. A vain hope, perhaps, but she didn't want to think about something so ghastly befalling her young friend.

"Are you happy here?" she asked bluntly as she took what was left of the pill and stuck it in her bodice to hide the evidence. It was best to ask the question immediately.

"Am I…?" Her face screwed up as if she might cry, though she was too weary to manage the feat. "Oh… I don't believe I am… m-my Aunt and Uncle, they came and got me… once they heard tell I turned up again. Only they didn't think I was in my right mind, they… looked at me like… I wasn't kin to them anymore, sent me away… and nobody here'll believe me, Elphaba…"

"I believe you," she told her earnestly, without any hesitation. Not since she heard of the plight of the Animals had she felt so strongly about something. "I have an important question for you, Dorothy. Please try to focus. I know, after what they did to you…"

She couldn't finish, but Dorothy didn't need her to. "Go on, ask me."

"Do you want to come back to Oz?"

Her eyes leaking, she whispered, "I would. Ain't any point in staying here anymore, is there?"

Elphaba caressed over her hair. It was matted and dirty, and not braided as Dorothy would usually have it fashioned. More than ever, she felt protective of the child in a way she never thought possible after the way they had met.

"Then that's where we'll go." Glancing at the door again, she leaned in to kiss Dorothy's forehead, and she heard the girl sigh, saw her smiling weakly when she sat back. "It won't be until tomorrow. For now, just… keep quiet, remain here and try not to worry so m-"

The door burst open. There was the annoying matron again, looking flustered and carrying a dressing gown. Elphaba did duck down, and at first it seemed to work.

"Dorothy, turn around. I plum forgot 'bout your dress. Change out of that for me an' y'can have a clean one. Hurry up, now."

"Nnnhhh," Dorothy feigned. It was a pretty good feigned groan for a novice actor.

"Nuh-uh, none o' your sass, now. Up we get, li'l missy."

Hiding beneath the bed, but not directly beneath it so that the matron wouldn't catch sight of her underneath, Elphaba watched as her feet swung off the bed and sank into the padded flooring. There was shifting of cloth, and the view of her legs was partly obscured by the dirty gown being draped over the bed. Dorothy made a ghastly noise a second later.

"Ohhh, look at that there. Have ta change your bloomers, too. Bad little mutt."

"I… didn't… can't stop that from happening… the m… medicine…" She feigned her own droning way of speaking when medicated quite well, also.

"Sit, girl. Be right back, doncha put on that gown yet!" Sighing as if put upon, the woman spun and headed straight for the door, slipping out and into the corridor.

"Elphaba!" Dorothy hissed a moment later. When she poked her head up and over the bed, she saw Dorothy's soft back dotted with a few freckles and moles, the hair falling around her shoulders, but she wasn't moving.

"Should I make good my retreat?"

"Surely would be smart," she went on softly. " I… w-well, I bought you some time to get out. She'll be mad as hops if you're still here when she gets back! S-so go now. I'll see you soon?"

Elphaba curled her lip. She hated to think of Dorothy having to do something so repugnant as dirtying her undergarment on purpose to help her flee, but she knew if she was caught, they might attack — and though she was rather strong, she had no spells to ensure her survival. So only stopping to kiss the top of the girl's head, she sprinted for the door.

And bowled over the matron. It seemed she had been quicker about retrieving a clean pair of bloomers for Dorothy than either of them had hoped she would be. The only good thing was that she really did knock her all the way to the ground, so she could rush off in another direction.

"STOP HER!" the woman was screaming behind her as she tried to find an exit. She first spotted the toilets she hadn't been allowed in before, and tossed the key in through there so it wouldn't be missed. Then she pelted around in the direction she hoped would lead to the entrance-

And into the waiting arms of two large men who were only too ready to capture the offender. Of course, running hadn't helped her case any.

"Let me go!" she snapped at them. And they laughed. They laughed as she struggled, and as they hauled her into a room. She clawed and bit, but they were a little too familiar with the procedures for holding down patients to fall for any of that.

And then she felt a cloth being pressed into her mouth. Before she could demand to know why, she was already losing consciousness.

                                        To Be Continued…