I was at a cremation today of a friend of my mum's and the mother of the girl who was my best friend in primary school, so we've known her for a very long time. She had MS and opted for euthanasia. The ceremony was beautiful, but of course very emotional, hence the inspiration for this one-shot, which mostly came from her husband. He was very strong and brave, but, of course, very sad; and the sight of a grown man crying is truly heart-breaking. Therefore, I'd like to dedicate this one-shot to her and her family.

My dearest Fae,

I just wanted to let you know how much I love you and how proud I am of you.

By now, you're probably completely sick of hearing that from me. I don't know when you will read this; perhaps you'll find it one day when you are cleaning up my things, grumbling about the fact that I always make a mess, or perhaps I'll have found it myself in some drawer and I'll have given it to you. I can just imagine, though, that you'll need to hear that – that I love you and that I am proud of you. Even though you always roll your eyes at me when I say it, you know as well as I do that you pretty much always need to hear it.

As I am writing this, you are peacefully asleep beside me (at least I think you are; you're very good at pretending to be asleep and then scaring the living daylights out of me by suddenly snapping at me to go to sleep). Knowing you, you'll look up from this letter at me right about now and make a remark about how amazed you are that I was actually writing a letter instead of sleeping. And yes, normally I would be asleep as well right about now – you know falling asleep with you in my arms is my favourite thing to do in the world. I can't sleep right now, however, because of something you said this evening that has been haunting me ever since: you said that you wouldn't know what you would do without me.

Naturally, I wouldn't know what to do without you, either, and I hope I will never have to find out. I started thinking, though. One day, unless we both get into some crazy accident together, one of us is going to die and the other will have to live on – for another few weeks, months, years, or even decades, I don't know, but that does not matter. If it is me that has to stay behind, I know I will be devastated and it will be incredibly hard for me to move on, but I think I will. Eventually. Of course, one can never know such things for sure, but you know me – always optimistic and always looking for the bright side of things. I think I would be okay – not great, but okay. It's you I'm worried about.

Fae, I love you. You know that. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and the most important thing in my life – even more important than our kids, which says something, because you know how much I love them. And I know you feel the same way about me, even if you sometimes still have trouble showing it. Despite that, though, I need to know that you would be okay without me, too. I need to know that you will try to move on and that you will not give up. I'll talk to you about this in the morning, of course; but knowing you, you'll probably just laugh at me and you won't give me a serious answer. Maybe you will and I'm worrying for nothing. I just thought this little reminder couldn't hurt.

If you find yourself alone at some point in your life, sweetheart, without me; then I need you to remember the good things you still have in your life. I need you to think of our friends, of the Animals you've helped and become close to; of our home, of the things you love to do, and, of course, of our children. If I'm not there anymore to remind you of everything you have to live for, then I need to know that you will remind yourself. You can be so pessimistic sometimes and even though I always tease you about it and I will try to lift your spirits every time you need me to, there might come a time when I will not be around to do those things for you. I don't want you to waste away because of me, Fae. Even if I am gone, I want you to be happy with everything you have left. I also need you to know that I will be waiting for you, should I be the first to go. (I hope you'd do the same for me, but knowing you, you'll probably scoff right now and tell me that I'm an idiot for even thinking there is anything after this life. That's okay. If there really is an afterlife, I know you'll be waiting there for me, too, if your turn were to come first.)

You're rolling your eyes again right now, aren't you? I'm sorry, I never intended for this letter to turn so serious... or so sappy, although you should know by now that I can be incredibly sappy when I want to be. I'm going to put this letter away now and I'm going to cuddle up to you and sleep; and I'm going to fall asleep smiling because I know that when I open my eyes in the morning, it will be to see you, my beautiful wife, right beside me, for the rest of my life. (I figured that since this letter was so sappy already, I might as well make it even worse.)

I love you so much, my sweet Fae, and I will continue to do so for all eternity and beyond.

Yours forever,

Yero

Elphaba did not know at which point she had pressed a shaking hand to her mouth, nor at which point she had started crying; but the drops falling down on the paper told her that she was, indeed, crying. She hadn't cried for a long time. She'd never cried much in her life at all, because she had always felt like she needed to be the strong one. First for Nessarose. Then for Glinda. Later for her children. Fiyero never minded her crying – he actually encouraged it – but even when it was just the two of them and there was no need for her to be strong, because he was strong enough for the both of them, she had rarely ever cried.

She pressed the letter to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut, more tears falling down her cheeks. She was trembling, but she couldn't stop. When she heard the front door open and close, telling her that the children had returned, she all but ran out of the bedroom and sneaked out the back door before any of them would spot her. She didn't want them to see her like this and start asking questions.

She walked for a long time before she finally let her knees buckle and she sank down onto the ground, her silent tears slowly turning into heart-wrenching sobs. She curled up in the grass with the letter still clutched to her as if it were a lifeline.

She hadn't looked up at him once as she had been reading his letter. She hadn't quipped about him writing instead of sleeping and she hadn't rolled her eyes or scoffed. She hadn't scolded him for being sappy because there was no-one left to scold.

There had been no good-bye. That was perhaps what still bothered her the most about it all. No drawn-out embraces, no whispered "I love you"s, no words of good-bye or even an extra kiss. He had just pressed a kiss to the top of her head, winked at the children, and walked out of the door. She hadn't thought about him any more than she usually did as she brought the kids to school and then went to work herself. She'd always thought that she would feel it if something happened to him, because it felt like they were that closely connected; but she hadn't felt anything. She hadn't known he was dead until one of his colleagues came to the library, took off his hat, and told her that Fiyero had had a heart attack whilst working. He had been gone right away.

He was right in everything he had written in this letter. She'd almost given up. She didn't eat or sleep for three days and she couldn't cry for the first year after his death. Even after that, she had hardly been able to shed a tear – there was just this all-consuming ache in her chest that was too painful to even weep about. She had dragged herself through day after day, forcing herself to keep going for her children, because they already didn't have their father anymore and she couldn't take their mother away from them as well. The community, especially the Animals she had befriended, had tried to help her in every way they could; but of course it was not the same. She appreciated their help and she thanked them every time, but they could only do so much for her. They couldn't hold her at night when she was having nightmares about Witch Hunters coming for her or raise her children with her. They didn't know her so well it often felt like they could read her mind. They couldn't bring him back.

She looked up at the gravestone she had collapsed in front of, not needing to read the words to know what they were saying. They didn't say a lot, though. There was just a name and a couple of dates. It said that he had been a loving husband and father and that he would be missed. It didn't mention all the other things he had been, all the other parts he had played in so many people's lives, or how deep those things went. It didn't mention how it felt to miss him. It didn't say anything about that gaping hole he had left inside the lives and hearts of his children and his wife.

"I love you, too, Yero," she whispered, still crying and still holding the letter as if it were the most precious thing she had ever touched. "So much."

There was no answer, but perhaps she didn't need one. Perhaps the answer she had sought all along was now pressed against her chest in the form of a letter he had written to her one night, before he knew what would happen to him at a much too young age.

"I'll try," she promised tearfully, reaching out to trace his name with the tips of her fingers. "I don't think I'll ever be happy without you, Yero my hero, but I can promise you that I will try. But you will have to keep your promise, too." She took a deep, shuddering breath and let her hand drop. "Wait for me."

She sat there for a long time, on her knees in front of her husband's grave with his letter held tightly to her chest. She closed her eyes, but that did not lessen the pain she felt inside. She sat there, a green girl in the grass, having lived three years without her husband and knowing there were probably many more years to come during which she would not have him by her side.

The wind was rustling in the trees, the air was icy cold, and dark grey clouds came rolling in, promising rain. A bird screeched and time seemed to be standing still, and Elphaba Tiggular cried.