"Hide yourself. No one must know you were here."

Elphaba grasped Glinda's hand in her own and pulled her over to the other side of the room, nodding at Chistery to pull the curtain across. Right before he swept it in front of Glinda, Elphaba looked back at the blonde.

Tears sparkled in her emerald eyes as she stared at Elphaba with fear. Summoning all of her remaining strength, Elphaba smiled and looked at her for what she knew would be the last time. How she would miss her unlikely friend! It seemed only yesterday that she hated everything about her, and now she didn't know how to say goodbye. She'd tried to, but Glinda hadn't understood.

She would understand someday. She would have to. Glinda would be alright as long as she did what Elphaba had told her to.

But why did it hurt this much?

The moment was gone. The curtain covered Glinda and it was Chistery's turn to look at her, confusion in his gaze. How Elphaba wished she didn't have to leave them. She nodded at him again, wishing she had the time to take his paw in her hand and tell him that it would be alright.

But time was something the Wicked Witch of the West didn't have. Chistery turned away and finished pulling the curtain, hiding both of them from view. He had done his job well, and just in the nick of time. There was a loud banging on the door and for what seemed like the first time, fear dashed through Elphaba. What if her plan failed? What if they didn't accept her for dead? What if she couldn't activate the trapdoor in time? There were a million that coulda could go wrong this plan, so many factors were out of her control.

The bangs became louder and louder until there was a splitting sound and the wood cracked. Elphaba could see hands trying to pry the wood apart, and she didn't move to defend herself. Instead she walked closer to the door and took a deep breath as she prepared herself for what was coming.

With a final crack, the door split in two and witch hunters swarmed into her room. She let herself become surrounded, and then halfheartedly performed a few hexes to delay their attacks so she could begin her real work.

Elphaba quickly recited the spell that she'd spent days learning, and sighed happily as she successfully conjured fire. It danced in her hand, and with encouragement it grew larger and fiercer. She held it up for all to see, relishing their gasps of fear and surprise. In some ways, they were right. She was a little wicked, deep down.

She summoned more and more fire, letting it swirl around her. She raised her arms in triumph and let out a cackle of delight. Any moment now.

There was a swish and a splash, and cool water dripped down Elphaba's body, soaking her hair and her dress. Her beautiful flames were extinguished. Immediately she let out a wail that certainly fooled the witch hunters, and with her foot opened the trapdoor. She slowly slunk down into it, slipping her dress off so the hunters couldn't see the trapdoor. After thirty agonizing seconds of wailing and lowering herself down, she was in up to her hat. Elphaba nodded it off of her head and while the Witch Hunters cried out in glee, she closed the trap door.

The space under the trapdoor was only a few feet wide and barely tall enough to hold Elphaba. That morning she had left an extra dress to change into and a little food and water to sustain her until Fiyero could get away. She didn't dare touch either of them just yet, not until she was quite sure that the Witch Hunters and that filthy little farmgirl were gone. It seemed like days, but eventually the muffled cheers and footsteps died away and she could move freely again.

"Elphie?"

Oh no, oh Sweet Oz no. Elphaba had completely forgotten about Glinda. No, she couldn't have heard everything, right? The curtain must have muffled Elphaba's screams. But deep down Elphaba knew that Glinda had heard everything. She had fooled all of Oz, she must have fooled Glinda too. The poor girl might have even seen some of it. Tears welled in Elphaba's eyes as she thought about how scared she must have been, how confused, and how hurt.

Should she call back? If she was to tell anyone in Oz where she was going and that she wasn't truly dead, it ought to be Glinda. There was no way Glinda would tell anyone Elphaba's secret, she would take it to her grave.

But that was too great of a burden to leave on anyone, especially her only friend. What if someone discovered Elphaba wasn't truly gone? What if they linked Glinda to her? The Royal Army or the Gale Force would take her away-Glinda would be hurt, maybe even killed. Elphaba couldn't let harm befall Glinda, especially harm due to her association with Elphaba. The tears were rolling down her face now, and she was finding it hard to breathe.

She couldn't call back, she couldn't answer. All Elphaba could do was sit and listen as Glinda called her again, this time obviously on the verge of tears.

Now Elphaba couldn't control the tears rolling down her face, she couldn't get enough air in without drawing attention to herself. She heard Chistery roll back the curtain and then she heard careful, timid footsteps slowly make their way towards her hiding place.

Then they stopped, and the trapdoor creaked a bit as Glinda sat down at the site where she believed that Elphaba had perished. She was so close. All Elphaba had to do was to make a noise and she would be found. It took all of her willpower to stay silent.

That's when the sobs started. The sound of Glinda breaking down emotionally because of something Elphaba had done harmed her in a way she never knew was possible. How could it hurt this much? Tears streamed down her own cheeks as she pressed her hand gently against the wood, wanting to emerge and comfort her friend.

But she didn't. Elphaba waited as the sobs slowly died down and Glinda started to walk around the room. She could hear Chistery flapping around too. She had no idea what they were doing, perhaps collecting mementos or saying goodbye to Elphaba in their own special ways. Perhaps they had no real desire to leave. Maybe leaving would make it more real for them. Leaving would be conformation, at least for Elphaba, that they believed she was dead. When they left, she would never be this near to either of them ever again. She would never see them, touch them, hear their voices. Tears leaked out of her eyes again, running down the worn track left by her earlier sobs. Why, oh why did it hurt this much? Why did she have to endure this?

So as much as she wanted them to go so she could dress herself and eat some food, she prayed that they would stay. If they never left, then she was never dead to them.

Fresh tears rolled down her face as she heard Glinda's footsteps die away, as the flapping of Chistery's wings was absent.

They were gone forever, and so was the Wicked Witch of the West.