Alright, this is it! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and this story... and I hope the end doesn't confuse you all more!

"Fuck," he grumbled as he lifted the hood. Maera knew nothing about cars, but she had a sinking suspicion that sputtering and smoke wasn't a good thing.

She poked him from behind, staying clear of the car. "Do you know what's wrong with it?" She peeked at it from beneath his arm, but only saw what looked vaguely like black, smokey spaghetti. "Or better yet, how to fix it?"

He frowned. "Unfortunately, no and no. I am not the mechanic in the family. I take it you aren't either?"

"Definitely not. So what do we do?" She asked, leaning against the car until she thought better of it.

"Keep walking and hope we find a gas station or a mechanic's shop," he said. "You can stay here if you'd like."

She was walking before he finished his sentence. "Stay with a car that might blow up or something, alone, in the middle of winter? We'll walk together," she said, leaving him to chase after her to catch up.

The old road they were on was seldom traveled, still leading up to the Animal village. Neither of them really hoped to see another car. They both grumbled a little at realizing they probably had quite a trek ahead of them, but they also took the opportunity to walk hand in hand, feeling snow crunch beneath their feet. All seemed fine, until the road suddenly stopped.

"I don't get it, we didn't turn or anything. We didn't...where are you going?"

She had already walked off the road and was walking into the woods. She raised a fingertip to her lips. "Walk with me?" she asked, quietly. "I just... want to, need to see something." She reached for him and he took her hand and they walked together.

"Let's not go too far, though?" He asked, but she didn't respond until she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. "What's the matter?"

"Look," she said, pointing forward toward a clearing in the woods. He gasped at the sight.

Beautiful, brightly colored flowers grew, untouched by the snow. Indeed, the cold didn't seem to touch the clearing and Conley found himself pulling his jacket off. In the middle of the clearing stood the remains of a large, ceremonial fire- a funeral pyre, he realized. Although he stayed back, Maera approached it slowly, reaching toward it.

"Don't be afraid," he said, gently smoothing her hair out of her face. "You can rest now."

"I don't want to leave you," she said, her own voice sounding weak and foreign to her. "I don't want to go,"

He gathered her into his arms and she didn't feel any pain. "I know, my love, but don't worry about it, I'll be just behind you." She knew he planned to end the half life he had lived by her side. She wasn't a fan of the idea but knew he would do it anyway. "I love you so much, Elphaba."

"I love you too," she said, although she knew he knew it. "I'm just afraid this is really it, that we never got to have a normal, happy life. We never got a family, we never got safety, we never-" a coughing fit cut her off.

For a second her eyes shut and he thought he lost her, but then he could see her chest still rising with her breath. "Don't worry about that," he commanded her. "Even death can't part us, won't part us. I know that somehow we'll be together. Even if it's just in death, nothing will hurt us ever again."

She could feel herself weakening and she shut felt him gently touch her face. She felt warmth replacing the chill she had lived with for months. She felt numbness push aside the pain. She never stopped feeling his embrace even as life slipped out of her, giving way to nothingness.

Maera whirled around, seeing not only Conley, but another young man, Fiyero, as well as the Scarecrow he had become. "You kept your promise," she whispered, reaching for him. He caught her by the waist, turning her toward him. "You found me again, like you promised you would." She wasn't just Maera Lyman, she was Elphaba Thropp, too, she realized. Without an inclination toward magic, without green skin, but the woman Elphaba could have been if she hadn't been given such a poor lot in life. She was Elphaba before the world got to her- she was free to live, to love. And her love, he was here too. Conley was not a prince or a military officer or a Scarecrow, but he was the dreamer, quick to love and more than willing to do something brainlessly heroic.

"I love you," he told her, and she wasn't sure she knew who was speaking, Conley or Fiyero, but it didn't matter because it was true of both of them and she loved them both in return. She leaned against his chest, feeling his warmth and not the crinkle of straw. She could feel his hands in her hair, not ebony black but a dusty blonde. She breathed in his scent, knowing that she had found it, that this was the real end to Elphaba's story: love.