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Chapter Text

Regret was a funny thing. 

For much of her early life, Glinda had believed that regret was for weak-willed, indecisive idiots. Regret was for others who could not live with their past choices, not for her, never for her. Regret was foolish, and Galinda Upland was not foolish. She never regretted anything, not until Shiz. Not until Elphaba. 

Now that she was older, and a little bit wiser, Glinda regretted everything. She regretted her treatment of everyone around her, of Elphaba most of all. She regretted not seeing the Wizard and Morrible for what they were sooner, for clinging to their approval for so long. She regretted her focus on popularity and not prioritising friendship, regretted Fiyero, regretted not reaching out to Nessa sooner, not speaking out about the Animals, not getting on the damn broom. 

There were too many errors to count. Glinda supposed that it was simply the nature of getting older. Though, she was quite foolish in her youth, which certainly hadn’t helped. 

It was all plainly clear to her now, though it was far too little, far too late. She could feel it in Elphaba’s heavy gaze–the weight of her mistakes. 

“There is so much…so much I would change, if I could,” she whispered like a confession. Raising her eyes from the glittering wand in her hands, she could see the tears in Elphaba’s eyes shine in the low light. “I’m sorry I was too young and stupid to see the world for what it was.”

Elphaba’s lips quirked up into that little half-smile that’d enraptured her back at Shiz. It was sadder, now, filled with a melancholy that was learned from years alone. It hurt to see, in a bittersweet way. She had been free from the Wizard, but at what cost? 

“I wasn’t much better,” she offered. 

“No, you were,” Glinda gave her own small smile, her hands twisting on the crystalline stem of her wand. “You fell for the Wizard’s lies, but we all did. At least you were kind. ”

A small frown worked its way through Elphaba’s brow. “Who has the title of Good, again?”

“Oh, please, Elphie, we both know it’s all bullshit.”

A choked laugh spilled out of Elphaba’s lips, one of her hands coming up to cover her mouth. “You really have changed. I knew you had, but to hear you curse… ” Another laugh bubbled up. 

Glinda’s heart swelled abruptly, warmed by the sight of Elphie laughing. “A little too late, I think,” she murmured, choked by her own emotions. 

Suddenly, Elphaba’s smile fell, and she straightened. Wordlessly, with an urgency that was as brusque as it was startling, she turned to rifle through the shelves behind her, pulling out a familiar book. The Grimmerie. Lurline, Glinda hated that Oz-cursed thing. 

“What do you mean to do with that horrendible thing?” She asked, wary. 

“What if,” Elphaba started, opening the Grimmerie and frantically flipping through the pages. “What if it wasn’t too late? What if I could send you back?”

Glinda froze. The Grimmerie could do that? 

“It could, theoretically,” Elphaba continued flipping the pages, and Glinda realised she’d spoken aloud. “I know I’ve read a spell like it.”

With a triumphant shout, Elphaba held the Grimmerie up, displaying the pages she’d settled on. The sprawling, thin script was curved in the shape of a clock, as unreadable as ever. The letters arched and twisted under her gaze, giving the written clock-hands the illusion of movement. A chill went through Glinda at the sight. 

Elphaba slammed the book onto the table, and raised her hands. The image of it–her claw-like nails, her mussed hair, the hat– was striking. Glinda wondered if the Wizard had been relieved at how easy it was to turn her into a villain. Here, Elphaba felt unfamiliar and foreign, as though a stranger wore her skin. All that had made Elphaba so lovely and warm seemed to be stripped away in that moment, overtaken by the wilderness of the Grimmerie.  

“Wait, wait, wait,” Glinda rushed forward, grabbing at the Grimmerie. Elphaba snatched it away from her hands at the last second. “You aren’t serious!”

“Of course I am!”

Glinda gaped at her, clutching her wand to her chest. “You– you’re… Why me ?”

The paper of the Grimmerie shifted under Elphaba’s hand, the words threaded through with gold. “I can’t cast it on myself. I don’t even know how well it’s going to work. But–you have the best chance of changing things anyway! Maybe you can prevent things from getting this bad.” 

“I can’t,” the words were desperate, torn from her lips. They sounded less like a protest and more like a plea. “I don’t want to, let me stay here with you, I–I can't just leave you again.”

A stricken expression passed over Elphaba’s face. Slowly, she placed the still-open Grimmerie on the table, and stepped towards Glinda. As she approached, Glinda inhaled shakily, fighting the instinct to back away. She gripped her wand so tightly she feared it would break. 

But, instead of yelling, or crying, or slapping her as Glinda expected, Elphaba raised her hands and rested them against her jaw. Her hands moved so softly against Glinda’s skin that she almost wept. When was the last time someone had done this for her?

“You wouldn’t be leaving me,” Elphaba whispered, so close that Glinda could feel the feather-light touch of her exhale, “You’d be saving me.”

“Elphie…” Glinda closed her eyes against the burning tenderness. She didn’t deserve it. 

Elphaba swiped her thumb across Glinda’s cheek, catching a tear that she hadn’t noticed. “ Please, Galinda,”

Maybe it was her use of Glinda’s old name, the one she hadn’t heard in years, and years, and years. Maybe it was the desperation in Elphaba’s voice that was only matched by Glinda’s heart. Maybe it was the regret she felt, twining up her spine, wrapping around her lungs. 

Regret was a funny thing, after all. 

“Okay,” she said, and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll do it. How does it work?”

Elphaba let out a noise that sounded like a combination of a sob and a laugh. Her hands dropped from Glinda’s face as she walked back to the Grimmerie, and she already mourned the loss of their warmth. “I’m not fully sure. It’ll ‘send you back’, but it’s not clear on exactly what that means. It does say that the future will remain in a limbo state until the past catches up, though, so you’ll have time.”

She exhaled sharply. Okay. She could do this. Elphaba looked up at her with wide, blazing eyes, and Glinda could do little else but nod. She was always weak for Elphaba, and she was tired. 

“Thank you,” she said. It wasn’t enough; it couldn’t encompass the gratitude she felt, but it would have to do. 

“No,” Elphaba took her hand, bringing her closer to the faint glow of the Grimmerie. “Thank you. ” 

And just like she had all those years ago in that tower, Elphaba cupped her face, and kissed her. It was easy, and desperate, and filled with all the longing of their years apart, and Glinda never wanted it to end. 

But, nothing lasts forever, and they knew that better than most. Elphaba pulled away, untangling her fingers from Glinda’s hair, and Glinda pried her fingers off of Elphaba’s waist. It was a familiar kind of pain, and Glinda accepted it with a kind of grim determination. 

Elphaba spared her one last look, and Glinda nodded. 

Instantly, the chanting began. Glinda hated the sound of it, the cadence, the rhythm of words tumbling out of Elphaba’s mouth. It reminded her of blue feathers, and wings that shouldn’t be there, and the horrendible broom. The sound was piercing and musical, demanding that she listen. 

As it had in the past, the Grimmerie lit up gold, the flow of magic through the air stinging against Glinda’s cheeks. It tasted like ozone, like rainfall, like poppies. The yellow glow illuminated Elphaba’s face, her sunken cheeks, her tired eyes. The light of the Grimmerie left an ugly stain on her skin, turning the vibrant green sallow and sickly pale. She looked hollowed-out and exhausted, the painful years having taken their toll. 

Finally, the lilting words stopped, and Elphaba looked up. The Grimmerie’s glowing letters turned her hazel-green eyes into molten copper. Glinda had never seen anything more beautiful. 

“If you remember me… don’t let me be alone?” Elphaba asked, small and unsure in a way Glinda hadn’t seen since they were young. 

“Oh, Elphie,” she whispered. With her free hand, she reached up to cradle Elphaba’s cheek, thumb tracing the edge of her too-sharp cheekbone. 

“I’ll always remember you.”

The Grimmerie exploded into golden light, and Glinda the Good knew no more. 

***

“Maybe you can prevent things from getting this bad,”

Regret is a funny thing. 

Glinda– no, Galinda – shot up in bed, her throat raw, her own screams echoing in her ears. Tears slipped down her cheeks, surely turning her eyes red and cheeks puffy, but– but–

El– no, no, what was her name? The name of the strange Green girl in her dream, the one who had died alongside her– No, had she died? Glinda wasn’t dead. She felt dead. She felt like she was dreaming–like she was drowning. What had happened? 

Momsie and Popsicle slammed the door to her room open– what was she doing in her childhood home? She hadn’t been here since she graduated– and rushed to her side, whispering words of comfort as they wrapped their arms around Glinda– Galinda, why was she thinking that? 

Wordless, choked sobs wrenched their way out of Galinda’s throat, helplessness flooding her body. She didn’t even know why she was crying, much less why she felt like there was an inescapable ache deep within her core. It hurt, like she’d lost something important, something fundamental, but she didn’t know what. 

She wasn’t remembering something. Something important. Something that was crucial to her very being , something that mattered more than all the people in the world combined. She wasn’t remembering some one, someone who she had lived and died with. 

Who wasn’t she remembering? 

It felt wrong to not remember the one who’d given her this task– what task? Why did she feel like she was supposed to be doing something? 

What was happening?

Chapter Text

Galinda was twelve when she started getting the dreams. Dreams that were plagued with pain and misery and fear. Dreams that left her aching, curled up in a ball under her blankets, weeping for a woman she never remembered the name of. Dreams that she could never fully remember, only that they were important, and that she needed to be doing something. 

They happened every night. Sometimes they repeated, as if to emphasise their importance. Galinda hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep since she had turned twelve. 

They weren’t all bad. Some of the dreams were warm, comforting, and Galinda would feel like she was basking in all the good things to ever exist. Those ones weren’t terrifying, or grief-filled. But, when she woke up from them, she felt so lonely. The loneliness wasn’t hers, Galinda was sure. She didn’t feel lonely, not ever. She had her Momsie and Popsicle, and her many, many friends, and she didn’t get lonely. 

But, when she startled up in bed after one of the warm dreams, the deep, lingering throb of loneliness was worse than the fear. She’d rather wake up screaming, barely remembering the terror that’d been so real only moments before, than listlessly sitting by the window, always turning to share her thoughts, only to realise she was alone. 

She didn’t wake up screaming much, anymore. After the first night, when her parents had been so worried, they had brought her to doctors, and healers, and even churches, to try and heal her mind. Nothing had worked. The dreams persisted, and they had only become more vivid when she drank the tea the healers gave her. 

Galinda’s parents were helpless, and she hated seeing it. They loved her, she knew they did, but she also knew how much they loved the idea of her. There was only so long she could ruin their image before they’d snap. And word had been spreading, word of the mad Upland girl, the girl who woke up screaming every night, and tried to talk to people who were not there, and knew things she shouldn’t. 

So, she stopped. 

She stopped screaming, she stopped waking her parents, she stopped taking the medicine. She stopped being crazy and started being their model daughter again. She went through life pretending to be bubbly and cheerful and good. She pretended that she didn’t wake in the night, mouth open to call to someone she didn’t remember, hand outstretched to clutch the edge of her cloak. She pretended that she wasn’t crumbling under the weight of the ruse. 

Eventually, her parents believed her. Or, they didn’t and simply went along with her pretense to save face. Galinda didn’t particularly care, as long as they stopped looking at her like she was insane. (Not that they had truly ever stopped. Some things could not be unseen, unheard, or unfelt. Glinda would always be tainted goods, now.)

Her parents insisted it was a simple case of night terrors that inexplicably snowballed. They told everyone that Galinda’s muddled state upon waking was a product of an overactive imagination, or some traumatic event. In private, they whispered about images, about a stain on their reputation, lamenting having a mad child. In retrospect, Galinda was glad they dismissed her manic, frenzied ramblings, her attempts to flee her house, the names she’d yelled as she woke. Galinda was only half sure, herself, that she wasn’t mad, but if her parents heard her whisper names to herself at night, trying desperately to remember, they’d lock her away and destroy the key.  

It was just… something about the Green woman, the one who appeared in her dreams more than any other, felt real. She felt like she truly existed, somewhere. Galinda knew her, and that surety was solid enough that she knew she hadn’t conjured her up. 

The woman came to her almost every night. Galinda knew her face like the back of her hand in those dreams, but by the time she woke up, it all faded like footprints on a beach. The bigger details, the Green, the hat, the broom, they all remained. Her name, her face, her voice, though? They were lost in the fog of the dreams. Galinda knew the exact amount of freckles that dotted the woman’s face, but she couldn’t remember her name. 

There were others, though. Others whose names she did remember, if only because she’d written them down and recited them before sleep. Boq. Nessa. Fiyero. 

The last one had shocked her, because surely she wasn’t dreaming about Prince Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie Country. And she wasn’t, not really. The Fiyero she dreamed about was older than the one in the papers, a little wiser, and sadder. He appeared more often than the other two, but not as much as the Green Woman. He was important to her, in some unquantifiable way that was difficult to reconcile with the image of the arrogant, blithe prince in the newspapers. 

The other two were always together, always hand-in-hand, despite the chord of wrongness it struck within her. Seeing it, their linked hands, the loving gazes they exchanged, was…wrong. Galinda knew, somehow, that it wasn’t real. That Boq never truly loved Nessa, that Nessa only learned about it after years of deception. Perhaps Nessa had always known, but chose to ignore it. She’d ignored her own sister enough, she had thought bitterly when she’d dreamed of it for the first time. She didn’t know where the thought came from. 

Galinda did not like Nessa. The girl in her dreams and the woman in her nightmares were so different, and yet, she hated them both. Galinda didn’t quite know why the woman evoked such strong hatred within her, but she was sure it had something to do with the Green Woman. They were sisters, once, something within her fraying mind crooned, on nights when the dreams were particularly bad. But the shadow of their father –clinging to the ghost of their mother– haunted their every step, even once they were free of him. 

Sisters or not, they were entwined in some way. Galinda knew it like she knew how to breathe, like it was mostly instinctual until she thought about it a little too hard. All of them, the people she remembered, the ones that danced through her dreams every night, were connected to the Green Woman. 

The woman who loved you, she would think, sometimes, half delirious with the thought. She loved you, otherwise why would she sacrifice this, why would she send you back if she did not? And then, Galinda would catch the thought, and wonder why she’d had it. 

It was odd, sometimes, to have someone else’s thoughts in her head. Well, they remained her own thoughts, they simply went off in directions that Galinda’s mind hadn’t given permission to. Like the thoughts were sketching the outlines of a painting, but her mind had gone ahead and filled in part of the canvas, leaving Galinda staring at a half-done painting, wondering what in the name of Lureline the artist had been thinking .  

Often, she would find herself too knowledgeable of things she had no right to know. A year after the dreams began, Galinda had gotten into an argument with her father about Animals, and the laws surrounding their presence in society. Before then, she had known virtually nothing on the subject, but as she passionately argued against the Wizard’s proposed laws, the information flowed out of her like a waterfall. It had earned her two days locked in her room. When she came out, Galinda no longer spoke ill of the Wizard, despite her deep-rooted reservations. 

Her mother had fretted horribly when she’d been let out, but after such an act of betrayal, something had irrevocably shifted in Galinda’s mind. Her parents were no longer to be trusted; they were too concerned with their image to truly care about their mad daughter. If they listened to her delirious rants–which was already doubtful–they would truly see that Galinda was beyond repair. They would cage her, and Galinda had the instinctive thought that she’d had enough of cages. 

Since then, she had gotten better at tempering her odd bouts of muscle memory, the ingrained reponses, all of it. As she grew, she mastered using the strange knowledge her dreams provided to hide them. The smile, which felt fixed and fake upon her lips initially, grew to become her armour against the whispers, and the instinctive grace and poise that came with her dreams transformed into weapons. She was armed with the bits and pieces she recalled, and soon, she had stopped introducing herself as Glinda, and started pretending she couldn’t care less what people thought of her. 

It had only slightly worked. Glinda was the creature of her dreams, the woman she transformed into in her sleep. She wasn’t Ga linda (not yet). When Galinda recovered from her dreams, she was normal. She studied, she spent time with acquaintances her parents liked, she lived . But Glinda…

Glinda was…agony. Lonely, hurt, and longing for something Galinda couldn’t name. It hurt to be Glinda. The woman she would become was raw, exhausted, and desperate. Even the brightest, warmest dreams had a tinge of melancholy that would infect her upon waking. Glinda would bleed over. She would intrude on the waking world, and worm her way into Galinda’s psyche when she didn’t belong there. Glinda was a dream. 

Glinda was a nightmare. Because, if she wasn’t, then she was real. 

But, Galinda knew deep down that if the Green Woman was real (and she was, there was no mistaking the love she felt for a stranger), then Glinda was too.

***

Shiz was going to be a new start. 

A place to be, without the hovering specters of her parents, without the side-eyes from the servants. After all this time, she got to escape the suffocating walls of her room, and figure these dreams out. Shiz had one of the largest libraries out of all of the universities, and it had a sorcery department. She’d be able to figure out a way to get rid of them. 

Shiz was also lovely, with intricate architecture and sprawling grounds. The sight of the university from the boat was already beautiful, but sent worry to twist around her guts. She had thought that Shiz would be her new home, that it would feel comfortably familiar in the way that old, warm houses were. Cozy and lovely, like visiting a close friend’s home. But… there was something about the sight of sand-coloured stone and marble and blues that felt a little too familiar. 

Galinda was already picturing the twisting and turning corridors, the view from her private balcony (the single perk her night terrors had earned her), the scent of library books, and the uncomfortable wooden desks. But, that was wrong. Galinda could look at any given window, or door, and know, instantly, where it led. It was not simply her imagination running away on her– this was unnatural. 

This felt like her dreams. 

No, she pleaded to someone– anyone. Shiz was supposed to be different. Shiz was supposed to be a safe haven from the dreams, not feel like a dream itself! This was all wrong. Was there nothing that her nightmares couldn’t ruin?

But, there was nothing that Galinda could do. She couldn’t turn back; not when she’d come this far, not when she needed those tomes. She would get rid of her nightmares. Some silly deja vu wasn’t going to stop her. 

As the boat docked, Galinda took a deep breath in a feeble attempt to calm her fluttering nerves. She needed to make a good impression on her fellow students. Her parents kissed her cheek and left quickly, surely glad to be rid of their twitchy, embarrassing daughter. 

“My parents don’t even know that I left.”

Galinda almost didn’t react at first, assuming the voice was one of the strange echoes her dreams left her with. Then, she turned, and saw that it was a real person that she almost bowled over. 

Curly, windblown ginger hair, crooked smile, and short stature. She knew him. She had seen him before! 

Oz, he was still speaking. In her panic, she’d missed some of his words. 

“-Sorry, I’m–” Boq. 

Galinda blinked, her meticulously crafted smile frozen on her face. How was this possible? She had always wondered about her dreams, always thought on some level that they were real, but this? Being confronted with living proof that she was not mad? She could not possibly react. Could not waver from her practiced smile, her relaxed posture. 

“You know what I think, Biq?” She said, the words coming out of her mouth without her control. She felt… disconnected, as though she was watching someone else interact with Boq. 

“It’s Biq–it’s Boq,” he stammered, and her mind slammed back into her body. What was she doing? 

“I think, Boq, ” she tested his name out, the first time she’d said it loudly enough for someone else to hear. “That we are going to be good friends.”

With that, she walked away, fighting to conceal her terror. She was sure that Boq thought she was terribly rude, but she rather didn’t care. He was real, which meant that they would all be real. Nessa, Fiyero, and the Green Woman were all out there somewhere, and Galinda had been seeing them in her dreams for years! She had known they were real, but– but seeing was something else entirely! Would she meet them? She’d met Boq, and in many of her dreams, she’d been herself, and not an outside spectator. Maybe she’d meet the rest of them soon? Well–

In her dreams, they were different. Older. She had felt it, in herself, and seen it on the others. Boq was much younger than her dreams, but she couldn’t remember them all. Had she dreamed of them all younger, but forgotten? It was possible; she only remembered impressions and feelings, not appearances. 

Apparently not for Boq, though, as she’d recognised him in a moment. Would it be like that for the rest of them? Would she need to hear their voices? What if she didn’t recognise them? 

The Green Woman would be easy. She was green. Galinda had never heard of or seen anyone like that, not ever. But she was the most important. Galinda didn’t care if she didn’t recognize Nessa, or never met Fiyero. She was all Galinda cared about. 

Galinda, filled with newfound determination, continued towards the main entrance. Along the way, she was mobbed by Pfanne and ShenShen, who she once again, responded automatically to. It was like she was reading a script, one that required mental effort to break free from. It unsettled her. Galinda desperately craved control over herself above all else. It was an unfortunate, but not unforeseen effect of her dreams. To have what little control she retained stripped from her… well, it unsettled her. She was too frazzled to think of a better descriptor. It reminded her of when the dreams were new, fresh, and vivid in her mind. When she was a small and terrified child who didn’t yet know that her life had been ruined for her. 

Ushered on by her newly-acquired friends, Galinda made it to the main entrance with no other incidents. The surroundings blurred around her, familiar enough that she knew exactly where she was going. That knowledge sent her mind spinning once more, lost in the fog-like state of her dreams. As the upperclassmen and alumni began singing the school song, her mind twisted from possibility to possibility. She couldn’t see Boq in the crowd, but perhaps that was for the best. She had so rudely dismissed him, and the words she’d been about to say to him were words she reserved for people like Pfannee and ShenShen, not her friends. 

There it was again– she kept thinking of the people around her as though she’d known them for years. How did she know that casually dismissing people would be something she did for Pfannee and ShenShen? Why was she already considering Boq a friend? She remembered him, but that didn’t truly mean much when she couldn’t remember what she’d remembered. Galinda’s dreams were so vivid while she had them, but the memories would always fade from real, solid memories to vague brushstrokes and impressions and feelings . 

That didn’t make much sense, but Galinda ignored it. Something much more important was about to happen. 

How did she know that? A trickle of dread filtered into her chest. What was about to happen? Why was there something under her skin, buzzing and zapping and humming? It was a strange combination of dread and anticipation, but it felt foreign, like it wasn’t coming from her. Again. Again. 

Her breaths came faster, now, her chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“Galinda?” Pfannee gently touched her shoulder, startling her out of her daze. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m–” fine, she meant to say, but the words didn’t come. It felt like her lungs were being crushed, like she was crumbling under the might of her dread. She felt sick. She felt her tenuous authority over her body slip, and the wild terror inside her head surge for control.

“Okay, okay, um–” Galinda saw ShenShen glance at Pfannee, and then strong hands on her shoulders, pushing her through the crowd. “Let’s get you somewhere private, okay?”

The next few moments were a blur, Pfannee pushing people out of the way and ShenShen pulling her along. Galinda couldn’t breathe, couldn’t tell what was going on. It felt like she was dreaming, like her heart was fighting to escape out of her chest, like she was about to collapse and throw up, like–

“Galinda .” Pfannee’s firm, but quiet voice pierced through the fog, and she stared, wide-eyed, at him. The name was wrong, why was he calling her Ga linda? She hadn’t been called that in years, not since–

“ Galinda! ”

“There you go,” ShenShen said, and Galinda realised they were crouched in front of her in an empty hallway. “You gotta breathe, okay?” 

Shakily, Galinda attempted to follow her orders, sucking in lungful after lungful of air. Slowly, the fuzzy edges of her vision cleared, and her lungs no longer felt starved. The shaking in her hands persisted, but it was considerably less violent. Slowly, the world returned to normal. Well, mostly normal. 

The feeling of dread lingered, the anticipation now replaced with an intense feeling that she was missing something. Whatever it was that was going to happen was happening, but Galinda was not there to see it. (Last time, she had seen it. What was ‘it’? What was ‘last time’?) The strange deja vu was back, making everything feel dreamlike. 

“Galinda?” ShenShen asked, hesitant. “You okay?”

“Hm? Oh,” Galinda looked down at her shaking hands. “I’m fine. Yes. Sorry about that, I have no idea what that was.” Her hands refused to stop shaking, so she levelled a glare at them. Whatever was causing this panic was already happening, and it clearly wasn’t all that. The university wasn’t blowing up, no one was dying. Why did she feel so anxious?

“That was a panic attack,” Pfannee helpfully informed her. 

“Yes, I’ve had them before,” she ignored the jolt of fear at revealing such personal details. They had already seen. “I just don’t know why it happened now. ” 

“Oh,” Pfannee and ShenShen exchanged glances. “Maybe you were anxious about the first day?” ShenShen offered. 

“Maybe,” she said, gratefully latching on to any excuse she could get. “Either way, I’m fine now, and we really should get going. At this rate, we’ll miss the opening ceremony.” Hurriedly, she pushed herself to her feet, stumbling a little as she regained her footing. 

“We won’t tell anyone,” Pfannee said, suddenly. “I swear. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Galinda had been a little worried about that, but Pfannee’s sudden earnestness felt shockingly genuine. 

“Yeah,” ShenShen chimed in. “I mean, we’ve both had panic attacks before, too. I get it. You don’t need to tell us why you had one, or anything. I might be a gossip, but not about my friends.”

Warmth bloomed in Galinda’s chest, along with a strange bittersweet melancholy. She mused to herself that she probably remembered them too, in a muted, quieter way. She’d gotten far too attached to Pfannee and ShenShen, far too quickly, but they hadn’t triggered direct memories like Boq had. Had she dreamed of them before? She wished she knew.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. 

The two smiled at her. Galinda wondered why she couldn’t properly remember them, instead of getting random bouts of dread. 

“We really should be going, now, though,” Brushing off nonexistent dust from her skirt, she extended a hand to Pfannee. “I’d hate to be the reason we missed orientation.”

Pfannee took her hand, helping ShenShen up in turn. Without much discussion, the three continued on to… wherever Galinda was leading them. She didn’t quite know, but the strange muscle memory had taken over once more, and she chose to let it. Knowing where she was going could possibly be useful, if it meant she didn’t need to worry about getting lost, so she ignored the anxiety that came with it. 

Soon, they had arrived in the courtyard where most everyone had gathered. The headmistress and several of the teachers were gathered already, though they had thankfully not begun speaking. Galinda, Pfannee, and ShenShen quickly moved towards the closest open seats, just as the headmistress stepped forward to begin. 

Galinda found herself blankly smiling, scanning the teachers for… someone. It was another one of those automatic, reflex-like moments that were becoming dangerously common. But, Galinda was tired. The progressively awful day had sapped her energy, and she could not bring herself to snap out of it. 

To her horror, as she looked through the teachers, she found herself recognising more and more. Miss Coddle continued to speak, but Galinda no longer made an effort to listen, too busy keeping the expression of dismay off of her face. There was her linguification professor, the law professor, and on, and on it went, and then–

Doctor Dillamond. 

As though a bolt of lightning had struck her, Galinda’s spine straightened, her eyes wide with shock. She could not possibly keep her mouth closed, though no words came out. He… He was here. 

Why wouldn’t he be here? He teaches here, the naive little voice whispered in the back of her mind. Then, startling and abrupt, the words ANIMALS SHOULD BE SEEN, NOT HEARD, flooded her mind, bold-red. 

–Words on a chalkboard, shock and distant horror sliding through her veins.

–Whispers filling the room, growing, and growing, and growing to a fever pitch, until–

CLASS DISMISSED. 

–Floods of students fleeing the classroom, and GalindaITS GLINDA NOW, STUPID, I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY I SAID IT looking back to see ELPHABA kneel and collect the fallen poppies–

–Poppies, poppies are her favourite, like the Doctor–

–Poppies like the ones she used to spell GalindaGLINDA asleep–

–Like the ones she used on Dorothy–

–help Dorothy, Galinda, GLINDA, I am Glinda the Good, Glinda the Witch of the North, Glinda, Glinda, Glinda—

“Galinda!” 

Galinda, not Glinda, not anymore, blinked. ShenShen’s hand was on her arm. Pfannee was looking at her with obvious concern. 

Deflect, deflect, deflect, Galinda Upland, that’s what you’re best at, after all. 

“Sorry,” she stammered out, desperately hiding the breathlessness in her voice. “I zoned out.”

ShenShen frowned, opening her mouth. Pfannee coughed sharply, elbowing her. She blinked, glanced back at Pfannee, then plastered a fake smile onto her face. “Don’t worry, I just wanted to get your attention for Madame Morrible!”

Madame Morrible? 

No. No, no, not her I don’t want her near me, not after–

“Oh, wow,” Galinda said, grinning brightly. “I cannot believe it’s really her!” She laughed, craning her neck to see the elegant woman. 

No, something deep inside of her moaned, pained and low. No, keep her away from us, away from ELPHABA–

– blue feathers, and screaming, and–

“You know, it’s always been my heart’s desire to become a sorceress like her,” she said. 

“Don’t worry, dearie,” 

“She’s so cool,” Pfannee squealed as the clapping died down, allowing Madame Morrible to speak. 

–cold voice, even colder embrace, saccharine smiles and claws–

“I know you did your best to bring her back to us. Sometimes wickedness cannot be overcome.”

–dust and fire, a black cloak wrapped around strong shoulders, weak with tears–

Finally, the iron grip of her bizarre muscle memory released, and she slumped forward in her seat. The ear-to-ear grin dropped, her shoulders tensed, and she clenched her jaw as Madame Morrible continued. 

That was– that was… horrific. Violating. It left Galinda feeling… wispy, floaty, as though she was a kite without a tether. She was going to fly away, surely, right here and now, as Madame Morrible finished speaking. 

She could not tell if floating away would stop the yawning pit in her stomach or not, but part of her screamed that it did not matter. That she should let the winds take her, whisk her far, far away, until Oz was a blip on the horizon, and she was no longer plagued with visions she did not want, and a stranger controlling her body. 

I am no longer simply dreaming, she thought, a shudder ripping through her like a winter chill. There is someone else happening. Something she did not know, or understand, or want. She’d fallen into frightening intuitive behaviour, after her dreams, but never had it been so– so close. 

The urge to cry welled up within her, cresting to an overwhelming wave of exhaustion. Shiz was supposed to be different. She had been so excited to get away, to meet new people who didn’t look at her like she was crazy. How much of that excitement was hers? How much of it was these echoes of another life's emotions? 

Had any of her choices been her own? 

Stop it, she told herself sternly. You can spiral about this later. Now, you have an image to maintain. You cannot cry. She could not simply burst into tears out of the blue, that was not acceptable. She was already off-kilter enough, it would be a wonder if her classmates didn’t already think she was odd. 

She needed to talk to Madame Morrible. As much as the alien emotions screamed in protest, she knew that it was necessary. Morrible was the most powerful sorcerer in Oz, second only to the Wizard. She would know what was happening to Galinda.  

A sudden touch on her arm startled Galinda out of her thoughts. Looking up, she saw that Pfannee was touching her shoulder, a worried expression on his face. In a futile attempt to dissuade his concern, she forced a small smile and looked back up to the front of the courtyard. Madame Morrible had finished speaking. Students were milling about, searching for their assigned rooms. 

“Oh, I have to go,” Galinda muttered, standing quickly. She caught sight of Madame Morrible’s flowing skirts, and went to rush after her, but Pfannee’s grip on her shoulder tightened. 

“Go where? Galinda, are you sure you’re alright?” ShenShen asked. 

Galinda exhaled sharply, frustration building in her chest. “I have to speak with Madame Morrible. I will be back soon, I swear.” 

Hesitantly, Pfannee and ShenShen nodded, but Galinda didn’t wait. She darted after Madame Morrible, swiftly dodging the students walking about. She managed to catch up with the woman just as she was about to leave the courtyard. 

“Madame Morrible!” She called, ignoring how out of breath she was. “I was hoping for a moment of your time?” This is wrong, I shouldn’t be doing this…

Madame Morrible turned, her collar sparkling in the light. “If this is about room assignments…” 

“Oh, no, I was assigned a private suite when I enrolled,” Galinda explained hastily, “I wanted to speak with you about my essay? I submitted it for your seminar.” 

“Yes, well, I will not be hosting my seminar this semester, my dear,” her lips curved in a condescending smile, and Galinda felt discomfort curl in her stomach. “So you may run along, and–”

No, no, she was dismissing her! “Madame, I didn’t submit it for entry to your seminar, it was more of a… personal project,” Oz, she was cutting a professor off. What was she doing? “I was rather hoping to get your advice on it. You see, I have been experiencing–” 

Abruptly, her voice cut out mid-sentence. 

NO, some deep, primal fear cried out, SHE CANNOT KNOW. 

The idea, the sense of wrong, wrong, wrong, what am I doing, I need to get away from her , shook her to her very core. Pain erupted in her skull, as though a white-hot spike had been driven through her temples. 

DO NOT ATTRACT HER ATTENTION, her head hurt, but she opened her mouth to speak again anyways, and–

–a hand on her wrist, claws digging into her skin, fingerprint bruises left where it had been–

“-This abomination, this perversion –”

–kind words said by a cruel voice, and she was so desperate for any warmth after Elphie had left–

“This Wicked Witch .”

–she was in a cage, they wouldn’t let her leave the city–

–training, and magic lessons, and repeated actions until her fingers went numb and she collapsed onto the cold emerald floors–

“You simply do not have what it takes, my dear,” and why didn’t I just get on the broom–

Galinda swayed, dizzy and terrified. What had she seen? What had it warned her about? Was that what her dreams could have been all along– warning her what could be? Were they a future that had already happened, or possibilities she could live through?

Before she’d arrived, Galinda had been so sure that talking to Madame Morrible, and scavenging through the library would answer her questions. Now– now, her dreams had crept into her life in a way they never had before. She had hallucinated echoes, talked to those who weren’t there, and chased after phantoms, but this? This was unlike anything that had happened before. And Madame Morrible was not going to help her. Galinda…wasn’t sure what her episode had truly been showing her, but none of it had painted a picture she’d wanted to see. 

“Dearie?” Madame Morrible’s sickly-sweet voice brought her back to the present. “What was that?” There was something in her tone, something dangerous that made Galinda want to shrink back like a chastised little girl. 

Before Galinda could respond, screams suddenly rang out across the courtyard. 

As she turned, a bench came flying towards her face, and she lunged out of the way. What in Oz was going on? She looked up, seeing that the benches and tables laid out for the welcome ceremony were being flung across the courtyard by some invisible force. 

Galinda tasted ozone. She knew this. She had seen this, once upon a time. In her gut, the tumultuous emotions roiled, rising to a fever pitch. Was this what she had been so anxious about earlier? 

A loud crack echoed off of the stone walls. Galinda turned towards the sound, seeing the mural of the Wizard now laying on the ground, broken in half. One of the benches must have hit it, she thought. Where the mural once had been was an older one, depicting Animals founding the university. To her utter surprise, she felt no shock at the sight. She had already known. 

After a moment, the benches settled. She could hear the rising cries of the surrounding students, forming a ring around the centre. Turning to ask Madame Morrible what was happening, she found the space next to her empty. Madame Morrible had left. 

She felt a jolt of panic as she realised that her one chance may have slipped through her fingertips. Looking around desperately, she spotted Madame Morrible walking through the crowd of students at the centre of the courtyard. Instantly, she bolted after her.

As she pushed through the crowd, a funny sense of excitement grew, ballooning until she was choking on it. Something was about to happen, again, but this time all she could feel was terrified elation. 

Frowning, she pushed forwards just a little, until she could see whatever was at the centre of the circle–whatever had caused the windstorm. There was Madame Morrible, talking to someone hidden behind her cloak and hair. A girl in a wheelchair was quickly moving away, ducking into the crowd. 

Nessa? 

Oh, Oz, had she seen another of her ghosts? 

Through the crowd, she caught a glimpse of the shiny, brass wheels, and curly hair tumbling over her shoulders, so much like her sister’s–  

–she’s kind and cruel at the same time, GalindaGLINDA can see it in how she talks to Elphie–

“See that tragically beautiful girl?”

–it’s all her fault for what happened to Boq, she just wanted for him to go away, and Nessa was the closest option–

“THE WITCH IS DEAD!” 

–she hurts Elphie all the time and I hate her for it, but I can’t do anything because Elphie loves her–

It was Nessa. Anger burned in her at the sight of the girl, but– she was not the monster of Galinda’s nightmares, was she? Not yet. She looked almost younger than Galinda. 

But– the thought struck her like a bolt of lightning– if Nessa was here, then…

She turned back to where Morrible had moved out of the way, revealing the person she’d been talking to. 

Galinda’s breath caught. 

From across the courtyard, a girl stared back at her. Beautiful, and brilliant, and Green. She is the woman in Galinda’s dreams. She is gorgeous, and magical, and  everything Galinda had imagined. 

I found you.

“Elphaba?”

Chapter Text

The last thing Elphaba Thropp expected when she made eye contact with the strange blonde girl was for her to go pale, whisper something unintelligible, and fall into a dead faint. 

Already, her day had been quite terrible. Her father was all out of sorts due to Nessa leaving, and had been nagging her to no end for hours. Nessa was impatient, quicker to snap at the both of them. And, she had always gotten stares wherever she went, but Shiz was full of people who hadn’t yet gotten over the shock of seeing her for the first time. 

Oz , dealing with new people was exhausting. It wasn’t even midday yet. 

But this? This was weird. Nobody had ever fainted from seeing her before. Quite frankly, Elphaba wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh, or duck away from the prying eyes and scream. She was leaning more towards screaming, honestly. 

It was bad enough that she’d had another…outburst (she refused to call it magic, even though Madame Morrible had taken the credit and she was a sorcerer). It was worse than it had ever been, somehow. She had caused destruction before, but never on this scale. It was like the… force (because it wasn’t magic) under her skin had suddenly swelled to a fever pitch and demanded to get out. And, in this case, ‘getting out’ meant throwing around several benches and causing property damage. 

Thank Oz Madame Morrible had taken the credit. Thank Oz that the students were stupid enough to believe it. 

“ Holy – Galinda!”

Twin shouts echoed across the courtyard, and Elphaba turned to see two students running through the crowd. They unceremoniously pushed aside any in their way, making a beeline for the fallen girl. 

The girl in question was being pulled upright by a couple nearby students, and a few of them gasped when her head lolled to the side, revealing thin streaks of blood running down her face, staining her pretty blonde hair red. 

“Oh, Oz, she’s bleeding!” The two skidded to a halt by her side, frantically hovering as she was passed over. “What do we do?”

“Is–” Elphaba took a hesitant step forward, glancing towards Madame Morrible. “Is she okay?”

Madame Morrible cocked her head, studying the girl–apparently Galinda– with a strange look in her eye. “She will be fine,” she said eventually, eyeing the two students now crouched by the fallen girl’s side. “You two, take her to the infirmary, and make sure she gets treated.” She pointed at them, gesturing for them to pick her up. 

“Yes ma’am,” said the taller girl, lifting Galinda into a bridal carry with little effort. “Let’s go.” She turned to her friend, and the two rushed off. 

Elphaba frowned after them. Something about the whole situation felt off. Why had Galinda fainted? Was it truly just because of Elphaba’s skin? If so, she felt a little less bad about the blood on the cobblestones, but even so, there was something strange going on. 

With all the excitement calming down, the thick crowd of students began to break up, though the whispers continued even as many left the courtyard. 

“Now, dearie,” Madame Morrible turned back to face Elphaba, a wide smile on her face, seemingly unaffected by the chain of events. “Come with me. I must speak with you about a great many things.”

Maybe the Galinda girl was just crazy, she thought as Madame Morrible led her out of the courtyard. She spared a final lingering glance at the droplets of blood on the floor. It would do her best to not think about it again.

***

Elphaba was enrolled in Shiz. 

Her. Elphaba Thropp. Enrolled in Shiz University. 

Her. 

This was a dream come true. It was everything she had ever wanted, and Madame Morrible saw her! She looked past her Greenness, and saw what she could be capable of–no one, not even Nessa, not really, had ever done that. And she’d spoken of such grand futures, too. Grand Vizier. Meeting the Wizard. 

Oz, her whole life had completely turned upside down in one afternoon. Just that morning, she was dreading Nessa’s departure, resigning herself to returning and helping her father with Munchkinland. Now…now, she was a student at Shiz. Shiz! 

She could hardly believe it.  

Going from hugging her sister goodbye, to magically lashing out, to watching a strange girl faint at the sight of her, to being accepted into Shiz all in one afternoon was…exhilarating. And exhausting. 

She wondered if she’d ever see the girl again, now that she was enrolled in Shiz ( she was enrolled in Shiz! Oz, she was glad Madame Morrible would be the one to tell her father). Probably, since it was relatively small by university standards. Elphaba wondered if she’d faint again. Again, she couldn’t decide if it would be funny or hurtful.

She walked through the halls at a brisk pace, ignoring the stares all the passing students gave her. The looks would ordinarily bother her, at least a little bit, but now, she felt invincible. Madame Morrible had accepted her into her seminar! She was going to learn magic– or more accurately, she was going to learn to control the magic she already had. 

Madame Morrible had departed with words of speaking to her father and arranging to have her things brought to her dorm. She had waved her hand, and conjured a room key out of thin air, handed it to Elphaba, and smiled at her awe. (Elphaba couldn’t wait until she could do that with magic, instead of throwing things and lighting them on fire.)

“I’d direct you to the headmistress for your room, but I already happen to know someone with a private suite. I’m sure she’d be willing to share,” she had said, winking, “Now, I’m off to send a letter to your father.” 

After a few more words exchanged, Madame Morrible left in a whirl of robes. Elphaba had wandered around for a while, marvelling at the architecture, the artwork, and the grounds around the university. The large, arching windows, the rich wooden doors decorated by intricate carvings, the pale sand-coloured stone… the school was beautiful, she had thought so from the moment she’d seen it, but now that she was enrolled… 

She was so giddy, riding the high of Madame Morrible’s words, that she’d forgotten that she didn’t know how to get to her dorm. After stopping for directions, she walked quickly to her dorm room, the excitement almost bursting out of her. The grounds were gorgeous, but Elphaba needed to process what had happened away from people. 

Hopefully, her roommate was out, whoever they were.  

Finally, she made the last right turn, coming up to a dead-end hallway. She double-checked the room number on her key, and walked up to the second last door in the hall. When she rapped her knuckles against the door, there was no answer, so she checked the doorknob. It was unlocked, surprisingly, but Elphaba decided to not question it. 

As she pushed the door open, she was immediately hit with a wave of flowery perfume. The room was massive , and filled to the brim with dozens of pink boxes and suitcases, towering over Elphaba. The stacks of luggage formed a maze-like path through the room, cutting off strangely halfway through. The chest of drawers and vanity were large, covered in delicate carvings, and there was even a balcony . The ceiling was painted, a flowery pattern covering the domed roof. It was ridiculous. Were all the rooms like this? 

Hesitantly, she walked past the wall of luggage, into the right side of the room, spotting an unmade, simple bed in one of the corners. On the opposite wall, past the boxes, there was another bed, this one already made up with a frilly lavender bedspread and fluffy pillows. 

If Elphaba was being honest, the overwhelming pink, the elaborate suitcases, and the strong perfume grated on her nerves. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to meeting her roommate, if this was their sense of design. But, at least half of the room was left empty, presumably for her. Maybe her roommate wasn’t a total jerk. 

After taking a quick look around her side of the room ( her room. At Shiz. Oz, this was a dream), she found a clean set of bedsheets, a writing desk, and a set of toiletries. She hoped that Madame Morrible could convince her father to send her things to Shiz, or she’d be stuck with the limited school hair and skin products (not that she was vain. Only– if people were going to stare at her skin all the time, she wanted it to at least look okay ). 

A faint sound startled Elphaba out of her musings, and she looked up to see that there was someone out on the balcony. She supposed that this must be her roommate, but she couldn’t quite see what they looked like from inside. 

The person outside came closer to the balcony doors, opening them. The cool breeze drifted in, and Elphaba craned her head around the stacked boxes to get a good view of her roommate. 

Oh, fuck, it was the fainting girl. 

“Oh, it’s you. ”

Ohhhhhhh, shit. That was not a way to greet a roommate. Or make a good impression. Fuck, Elpaba was screwed. It would be a miracle if the girl didn’t already hate her. Okay. Okay. Elphaba could do this. She could be roommates with the girl who’d fainted at the sight of her. 

“Holy–” the girl–Galinda?– jumped, whirling around to face her. She was pretty, Elphaba realised much to her dismay. In the courtyard, she hadn’t gotten a good look at her, but now she could see her clearly, and shit. Her long, blonde hair curled nicely against her angular cheekbones, and even startled, she maintained a sort of effortless grace. One of her hands was pressing a damp cloth to the side of her head–where the blood had been. “Why are you in my room?” She asked, her voice a little too high-pitched to be natural. 

“I– They didn’t tell you?” Elphaba blinked. Oh no. “Madame Morrible assigned me to this room.” 

“What?!” She gaped at Elphaba, her gaze turning to the unmade bed and second desk, looking as though she was only now noticing them. “I–no, they didn’t tell me!”

Great. All of Elphaba’s previous elation was wiped away, replaced by apprehension. “I have the key,” she held it up, displaying their room number. “Madame Morrible told me that you’d be okay with sharing.” 

“Oh,”

“Yeah. Oh.” What kind of a response is that?

“S–so, did she mention me by name? Did she even know who I was? ”

“No. Maybe. I don’t really know.” Wow, Elphaba, really nailing social interaction. No wonder you have so many friends. 

“Um,” Galinda cringed, looking down at her hands. “Not to sound awful, but I was assigned a private suite for a reason, and I–I don’t think–”

Ah. The picture came together. This girl was a pretentious, rich kid who didn’t want to share with the Green social pariah. Not too out of the ordinary for Elphaba, but it stung nonetheless. 

“Well, I’m here. I don’t think there are any others by themselves, so we’re probably stuck,” she said it more harshly than needed, perhaps, but Galinda was getting on her nerves. 

With a sigh, Galinda deflated, a strange emotion crossing her face. “Okay,” she said, “Okay, if Morrible said it was fine.” She said Madame Morrible’s name with an odd mixture of disgust and fear. 

“She did,” Elphaba said shortly, turning to set her jacket down on the desk. 

After a moment of awkward silence, Elphaba decided to make the bed she’d be sleeping in, ignoring her roommate’s staring as she did so. It was strangely unsettling; Galinda gaze was weighted and intense, and every time Elphaba looked up, she was unabashedly staring. 

Finally, it got to her. “Do you have a problem?” She snapped, glaring up at her unnamed roommate. 

Galinda jumped again. She was very twitchy. Elphaba thought, rather meanly, that maybe she could scare her by simply breathing. 

“No, no, I don’t, I was just…” the girl trailed off, gesturing aimlessly. 

“I know most people aren’t so scared of me that they faint, but that doesn’t mean you get a free pass to stare,” Elphaba scowled, crossing her arms. “I’m not an art exhibit.”

“I know!” Galinda blurted out, and instantly looked like she regretted it. “And I didn’t faint because of you, it was totally unrelated!”

Elphaba scoffed. “Oh, sure, the second you got a look at me, you just so happened to faint.”

“I did!”

“I don’t believe you.”

Elphaba lifted her chin, maintaining eye contact until the girl looked away. 

“I have had a very stressful day, Elphaba, but it has nothing to do with you specifically,” she pinched the bridge of her nose, her hair fluttering prettily in the breeze. “ I’m sorry I was staring. I will go over to my side of the room and stop.”

She said Elphaba’s name so casually that it sounded almost natural. It took Elphaba several seconds to actually understand what was so unusual about the sentence. 

“When did you learn my name?” 

Galinda sucked in a breath and went pale. “I–um, your sister told my friends,” she said unconvincingly. 

“...Okay,” that was a really weird answer. “When did you meet my sister?”

Again, Galinda shifted guiltily, not meeting Elphaba’s eyes. “Pfannee and ShenShen ran into Nessa after they let me out of the infirmary,”

She supposed the Pfannee and ShenShen must have been the two students who’d carried her out of the courtyard. And they had met Nessa? Yes, she had gone off after Elphaba’s outburst, but it was highly unlikely that she’d somehow ran into Galinda. But… judging by Galinda’s shaking hands, which she was intently trying to hide behind her back, she was nervous. More than nervous. She looked scared , now that Elphaba was actually looking. 

Discomfort settled over her skin like a swarm of bees. The scared ones were always the worst. Most people looked at her with shock at best, and disgust at worst, but it was the ones who were genuinely frightened of her that cut the deepest. It meant that they truly feared that she’d lose her mind and go on a bloody rampage, or cast her wicked spells on their children, or whatever it was they thought she’d do. The ones who simply hated her or tolerated her hurt, of course, but the scared ones burned. 

Elphaba hated it when people were scared of her. Maybe she hated it more than when they were openly revolted by her mere presence. At least they had the guts to tell her what they were thinking. 

…Okay. She’d let her line of questioning drop. As much as she wanted to press Galinda until she broke, enough of her anger had already transitioned into sadness. It simply wasn’t worth it. She couldn’t convince Galinda of her goodness if she didn’t want to believe it. 

“They let you out of the infirmary, then?” She asked, instead of demanding the full story of her supposed meeting with Nessa (then again, if she hadn’t met Nessa…how did she know their names?). 

Galinda nodded quickly, only to hiss in pain and clutch her temples. “Oh, yes,” she said through gritted teeth, “I insisted. It’s nothing, really, only a scratch. Head wounds always bleed a lot.”

Why did this random girl sound far too confident about that tidbit?

Oz, Galinda was getting weirder by the second. 

For a moment, neither of them spoke, lingering in an awkward silence. Elphaba was just about ready to throw herself off the balcony, when Galinda suddenly perked up, opening her mouth. 

“Oh, um, I realised that we haven’t actually been introduced,” she gave a halfhearted laugh, smoothing back a couple stray hairs, “I’m Galinda. Upland. I’m terribly sorry about the mess, I wasn’t expecting company for at least another day.” Her apology was unexpected, but then again, Galinda had been an odd mix of insulting and cordial so far. 

“Elphaba Thropp,” she supposed she should explain herself a tad bit more, “I was only just enrolled. Madame Morrible insisted.”

“Oh?” Galinda raised an eyebrow, looking moderately disgusted. There it is. “She accepted you? Into her seminar, I mean. I saw what you did with the benches.”

Elphaba bristled. “That was Madame Morrible. She said so.”

“It was you.”

It was said with such intensity, such conviction, that Elphaba paused. Why would Galinda know that? Much less know it with such certainty? As far as she’d seen, Galinda had been nowhere near the action when she’d thrown things across the courtyard. It was only afterwards that she noticed the distinctive pink-and-blue shades of her outfit passing through the crowd. 

“Why do you say that?” She asked, aiming for casual. It sounded strained. 

Galinda scoffed, and rolled her eyes a bit, as if Elphaba was an idiot. “Who else would it have been? I got the whole story later, you know. It’d be awfully strange for Morrible to strut around claiming credit for returning your sister to you.”

Again, with the blatant disgust of Madame Morrible! Perhaps that was what bothered Elphaba the most–her disrespect for the woman who’d saved her. “ Madame Morrible,” she stressed the ‘madam’ as much as she possibly could, “Does things for many reasons. Perhaps she saw that Ms. Coddle was being quite rude and simply chose to do the right thing.”

Galinda laughed, sharp and bitter. It looked unnatural on her delicate face, more fit for a sunny smile than a sneer. “Please. Her motives are a mystery to all, much less to us.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that we have no idea why she took credit for something we both know you did,” Galinda scoffed, “Which means we can’t rule anything out.”

There it was again– the use of we, the casual inclusion of Elphaba. Why was she doing that, and then turning around and badmouthing the only sorcerer at Shiz? Just what was Galinda trying to imply by discrediting Madame Morrible’s motives? Oz, she was such a confusing combination of traits, and Elphaba had only just met her. 

Frowning, she crossed her arms. Galinda could shit-talk Madame Morrible all she wanted. It didn’t mean that Elphaba needed to believe her. “She works for the Wizard. I think we can trust her.” She said. 

A dark look passed over Galinda, like stormclouds creeping over a clear sky. “Yes, well–” she cut herself off, turning to the side to mutter something under her breath. Judging by the harshness of the whispers, it wasn’t good. 

“Okay, I’m done!” Elphaba hissed, throwing down the clean sheets that she’d been holding. “If we are going to room together, stop staring at me, stop making snide comments about me, and stop talking about Madame Morrible.” The awful anger that had slowly been rising over the course of their information built, and built, and–

The balcony door slammed shut, a loud clang echoing through the room. The sound of glass splintering soon followed, a small portion of the window falling to the floor. 

Oh, no. No, no, no, not again. 

Hastily, Elphaba clenched her fists, heedless of the sting her sharp nails caused. The pain brought her back down to earth, slightly, breaking the haze of anger. Oz, had she really lost control again? And so soon after Madame Morrible told her to stay in the clear? And all because her new roommate had been annoying ? Elphaba had been Green her whole life. She had dealt with annoying people for all of it. She hadn’t lost control so much since she was a little girl– she couldn’t afford to. Being the governor’s daughter only got her so far, and she couldn’t stand the fear in their eyes when she used magic. 

And–and now, Galinda was staring at the cracked glass of the balcony door with the same horror that they had. 

Wait, no, she thought, frowning. Galinda wasn’t just scared, now. Elphaba studied her expression with mounting dread, taking in Galinda’s pale pallor, causing the deep red gash on her forehead to stand out even more, the sweat that had begun to bead at her temples, the shaky breaths that she was taking. She had gone completely still except for her hands, which had been clasped at her front. They were shaking, her knuckles stark white. But, what was most upsetting, was her eyes. 

Galinda’s eyes had been a rich brown moments before, but were now a strange dull gold. As Elphaba shifted to the left, they shone in the light, beautiful and disturbing. 

“Galinda?” She asked, taking a hesitant step closer. “Are you okay?”

There was no response. Galinda remained frozen, eyes fixed on the shattered glass. 

Alarm began to creep over her. “Galinda!” When there was still no response, Elphaba chanced grasping her shoulders, shaking her. “ Galinda !”

Abruptly, Galinda’s eyes shifted back to their regular brown, and she gasped. Startled, Elphaba released her shoulders. Galinda stumbled backwards, eyes darting around in a frenzied, terrified blur. She gasped again, her chest heaving. To Elphaba’s shock, tears began to form in her eyes, and a small trickle of blood trailed down from her nose.  

“Galinda,” she said slowly, hands raised in front of her, “What was that? What happened?”

“I–” Galinda shook her head, avoiding Elphaba’s gaze. Wincing, she brought a hand to her bleeding nose. “I need to–I need a moment. I’m… I can’t be here. I can’t, I’m sorry, I–” She cut herself off. Letting out a slightly hysterical laugh, she spun on the heel of her foot and bolted for the door. 

Utterly bewildered, Elphaba watched her go. The door slammed shut behind Galinda, leaving the room in complete silence. “What the fuck, ” Elphaba whispered emphatically.

What was that? In her whole life, Elphaba had never seen something like that happen before. The shaking, the fear, the hyperventilating, it would all make sense by itself. Galinda had fainted at the mere sight of her, after all. It wouldn’t be too surprising for her to nearly faint at the up-close display of her power. It was explainable. Disappointing and frustrating, yes, but explainable. But her eyes? No, that was unusual. That was weird. 

Galinda Upland, it seemed, was even more weird than she’d initially thought. 

Really, what was her deal? In the brief conversation they’d had, Galinda had seemed overly anxious, prissy, and a little bit bitchy. And yet, she’d had moments of kindness, where she seemed almost normal. The whole thing had been a mess of mixed signals and confusion, and Elphaba was almost happy that Galinda had left, if only so that she could process in peace. 

Sighing, Elphaba bent down to clean up the broken glass. At least Galinda had not spat in her face and kicked her out. There were worse people she could have been assigned to, she supposed. She could room with this odd, flighty girl, if it meant learning from Madame Morrible and attending Shiz. It would be worth it. 

It would have to be. 

***

Galinda raced down the dormitory hallways. The small, insipid voice of her mother whispered that it was unseemly to run, especially in her heels, but she ignored it. This was more important than her mother’s lessons on etiquette and behaviour. This was–this was… 

Oz, she didn’t even want to think about it. Her whole day had been fucked, right from the start. Her hopes of an escape in the form of Shiz had died a horrible, gruesome death, and were being feasted on by vultures at this point. There would be no escape here. Here was where her dreams, her visions had all been leading to. 

What she’d seen in her–their– dorm was… unthinkable. 

– regret is a funny thing–

She needed to get out, get away from her, from Elphaba Thropp, the beautiful, awful woman who’d haunted her dreams for almost a decade. She needed to look somewhere else other than her eyes, which ignited such a fierce guilt that it was nearly painful. The sight of her was not the joyful, blissful moment she’d always hoped for. The emotions of Glinda had swelled up and burst the moment Elphaba had walked into their room, tainting and warping their first proper conversation. 

“I can't just leave you again .”

–Elphaba is defiant and defensive, and I hate that she’s been forced to be that way–

No, stop it! Galinda wanted to scream. Instead, she dug her nails into her scalp, pulling her hair until the echoes went away.

She kept running, though she had no idea where she was going. Muscle memory had taken over, the path she was on familiar and foreign all at once. The pounding of her feet against the floor was all she allowed herself to focus on, until she skidded to a stop in front of another dormitory. She had no idea where she was, how far her own room was, or even whose room she was in front of. And yet, her hand raised to knock three times precisely against the fine wood carvings. 

–Elphaba is dancing in a room alone, even though there’s a crowd surrounding her–

–Fiyero looks at me with confusion, and he doesn’t know that it’s my fault–

“It’s the Wizard who should be afraid of me”

Galinda shut her eyes against the visions dancing in the corner of her eyes. It is continuous now. They had not stopped since she left their dorm room, and at this point she cannot tell what she’s seen before, and what is new. 

The door before her opened, and she jumped. It swung open to reveal ShenShen, staring down at her in openmouthed shock. 

Unfortunately, Galinda knew what she looked like. Her eyes were puffy and red, tear tracks no doubt staining her cheeks. Her hair was an awful mess, and the cut on her forehead was throbbing dully in time with her heartbeat. 

Fortunately, ShenShen was a good friend. Without hesitation, she ushered Galinda into her room, where Pfanne was already sitting by the vanity. There were no words spoken as ShenShen pushed her to sit down on the bed, the two situating themselves by her side. 

–Elphie is on my bed, letting me push her around for a makeover–

“Now that we’re friends, I’ve decided to make you my new project”

Galinda sobbed, the sound torn from her throat involuntarily. Instantly, Pfannee and ShenShen began to fuss and fawn over her, and she almost melted from the kindness of their comfort. What had she done to deserve this friendship, so easily given?

“I–I’m sorry,” she managed, the words shuddering on their way out. 

“Don’t be,” Pfannee rubbed her back comfortingly, as ShenShen dragged her into a hug. “We’re friends.”

“You were the only friend I’ve ever had.”

–She looks at me with so much pain, and I could have done something to stop it from being there, but I didn’t–

Galinda hated this. She hated Shiz, she hated the memories, the visions, whatever they were. They had ruined her life. And now, when she was finally supposed to be free, they ruined that too. They had even ruined Elphaba. 

She stayed like that, wrapped up by her friends, for a long, long time. 

When she finally emerged, she didn’t return to her and Elphaba’s shared room. 

Chapter Text

“She fainted? ”

Thank Oz for Nessa. As much as she could annoy Elphaba sometimes, she could always be counted on to laugh at how ridiculous people were about her Greenness. It had started as a game when they were little, a coping mechanism for Nessa to try and relate to Elphaba. They would point out the utterly bizarre reactions people would have to the two of them, trying to laugh instead of cry. It had evolved into them one-upping each other on who could have the most extreme response to seeing them. A little sad, a little bitter, but it worked.

Nessa had held the record, when someone had begun stammering at the sight of her, and broke her wheelchair when they tripped over their own feet to pick up her books from where they’d fallen. 

Elphaba had the rather resentful thought that she’d be holding the record for a long, long time after this. 

“Yep,” she sighed, flinging herself onto Nessa’s bed dramatically. “I win.”

At that, Nessa burst out into laughter. 

“Thank you for the support, Nessa. I can tell how much you care about me.”

Nessa cackled. 

***

“Let me get this straight,” Pfannee said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “She barged into your room, proclaimed herself as your roommate, magically slammed the door, and you just. Let her?”

“Maybe you forgot about how she magically slammed the door ,” ShenShen helpfully reminded him. 

Galinda groaned, burying her face in one of ShenShen’s outrageously expensive throw pillows. After the constant visions–memories?– slowed down, she’d come down with a terrible migraine, and her friends were anything but quiet. “She magically slammed the door after I insulted her teacher to her face,” her voice was muffled, but she refused to emerge from the pillows. She was far too embarrassed. 

“The same teacher that told her you were roommates without checking first?” Pfannee scoffed, “ No , I have no idea why you’d insult her.”

ShenShen wrinkled her nose. “Why did Madame Morrible even let the Green social pariah into the school? Her sister told me she wasn’t enrolled.”

“Morrible enrolled her,” she sighed, “And don’t call her that.”

“Why are you excusing her behaviour? It sounded like she was being pretty awful the whole time,” Pfanne pointed out. 

Ugh. They weren’t listening. But, they also didn’t have a voice in their head screaming that Elphaba was important, that she was going to change the world and Galinda would watch from her side. Maybe she wasn’t explaining herself well enough. 

“ I was fumbling the whole conversation. She’d been defensive, sure, but fine until I openly scorned Madame Morrible. The whole thing was my fault,” she removed the pillow from her head, ignoring Pfannee and ShenShen’s skeptical looks. “I should go back and apologize.”

Just as she made to sit up, ShenShen pushed her back down. Galinda squawked, then froze, horrified by the undignified noise she’d made. “Galinda,” she began, frowning. “You literally came to my room in tears. You couldn’t speak. And now you’re denying that anything even happened, and–and–”

“We’re worried,” Pfannee said.

–“I’m worried,” Elphaba says, frowning worriedly down at the note from the Wizard. “What if I’m not enough?”

“Elphaba Thropp,” I say, and hold her close. “You will always be enough”–  

Guilt yawned in her gut, opening like a pit. She hadn’t meant to worry them, hadn't meant to go to them at all. She still couldn’t determine why she’d ended up in ShenShen’s room to begin with, if she was being honest. Her strange muscle memory struck at the oddest of times, and she’d been too emotionally distraught to fight it at the time. 

But… it posed an interesting thought. If Galinda knew the way to ShenShen’s room, would she know the way back to her own? To Nessa’s? To Boq’s? All of her dreams– memories? Why did she want to call them memories? –had painted them as friends, once. It was only now that she was realising that it had been incomplete. They had been friends, but she hadn’t known why. She had missed their meetings, missed the days–months? Years? –spent in their presence before everything fell apart. 

And everything had fallen apart. She remembered that clearly. Not the why, or the how, or even the when, but she remembered enough. Her dreams never gave context– never enough, anyway. But what they did give her was the feelings. Feelings of grief, of guilt and pity, of longing so deep that it scorched her very bones. Something had gone horribly wrong. 

And it was all related to the Wizard and Elphaba. 

Oh, Madame Morrible was involved somehow too, she’d figured that out earlier. Boq and Nessa were pulled into it, and she had no idea how Fiyero was involved yet, but judging by her complicated emotions towards him, they had been close. But… all of it, whatever it was… it hinged on Elphaba. 

Oz, the confident, determined Elphaba of her dreams was so different from the defensive, skittish Elphaba of reality. She was so young, and something deep inside Galinda mourned the inevitable loss of that youth. 

The Elphaba of now was not the Elphaba she had fallen in love with–not yet. And… It was love. The memories she’d seen after Elphaba slammed that door slotted into place neatly, filling in the gaps of her feelings. She’d suspected it, in the past, but…she’d felt it, the whole of it. Galinda– or maybe Glinda, she wasn’t sure– would fall in love with Elphaba. 

But, she found it difficult to separate those feelings from herself. She would fall in love with Elphaba, some time in the nebulous future, but in some ways–most ways–, she already was. Oz, this was so confusing!

“Galinda?” 

Fuck, she’d zoned out. Again. 

“Sorry,” she shook her head, forcing herself to stop thinking so hard about her dream-memories. Pain twinged up her neck, and into her skull, and she picked up another one of ShenShen’s pillows to shove against her face. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” ShenShen moved closer to her on the bed, “just– what is going on, Galinda?”

Wasn’t that the question? What was going on? It wasn’t like Galinda could tell them ‘oh, I’m getting dreams of the future, but I’m not actually sure if that’s what they are. Also, they aren’t just dreams anymore, they’re happening while I’m awake now. Don’t worry!’. They would think she was crazy. They would tell someone, someone like Madame Morrible, who would send Galinda back to her parents to be locked in some madhouse. 

“I’m… having a hard time,” she said lamely. It wasn’t enough, she knew that. 

Pfannee sighed, running a hand across his face, “We’d figured that out.”

With a disbelieving huff, ShenShen slapped Pfannee’s shoulder. “Not helping,” she hissed, “You don’t need to tell us what’s going on if you don’t want to. But if you need to talk…”

Galinda nodded gratefully. Thank Oz they weren’t demanding answers. But…she knew that it wouldn’t last long. Sooner or later, everyone wanted answers, and Galinda didn’t know them. 

“Thank you,” she said, “truly. I’ll…try to explain some other day. It’s a long story.” A lie, but hopefully one that would tide them over until she came up with a reasonable excuse. 

“Okay,” Pfannee’s expression was still concerned, but less so than moments before, “But seriously, whenever you want to talk about it…”

“You can tell me anything, you know?”

–Oz, I want to tell here everything, but it’s too late now–

“I’ll go to you two.” Another lie. Galinda would never talk about her memories. Not again. 

***

“You can stop laughing now,” Elphaba deadpanned, glaring at a still-cackling Nessa. 

“Sorry, sorry,” she giggled a few more times, before her face smoothed out. “I can’t believe she fainted. That’s such an…extreme reaction.”

Elphaba threw her hands up exasperatedly. “Exactly! She said it had nothing to do with me, but I don’t believe that for a second. It happened the moment she looked at me.”

Frowning, Nessa came closer to the bed. “And you have to room with her?”

Elphaba nodded wordlessly. 

“Oz, that’s no fun. Was she polite at least?”

Snorting, she sat up. “Not really. She was so strange. It was like she couldn’t decide if she was scared of me or wanted to be nice. And then she started talking about Madame Morrible, and–” she was cut off by Nessa suddenly sitting upright, “what?”

“I remember why she sounds so familiar now!” Her expression turned sour. “She was trying to chat up Madame Morrible right before you did your whole,” she gestured aimlessly, “thing.” 

At the reminder of said thing, Elphaba winced. “Again, Nessa, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to.”

Humming, Nessa spun to properly face her. “I told you earlier that it was fine,” there was a tinge of bitterness in her tone that betrayed her words, “You apologised. I made friends anyways. It doesn’t matter. Anyway! Galinda–”

“Was she really talking to Madame Morrible?” 

“Yes,” Nessa scoffed, “Madame Morrible looked pretty annoyed by it, too. I think she was trying to get into the sorcery seminar, and Morrible wasn’t having it.”

That made so much more sense. Galinda’s strange behaviour suddenly all fell into place. Rich girl with a private suite wants magic lessons, only Madame Morrible says no– and then she has to room with the girl who took her place. She was jealous. It was probably the first time anyone had said ‘no’ to her, and she wasn’t taking it well. 

It didn’t explain everything, of course, but it explained enough. Enough for Elphaba to write Galinda off as a shallow, superficial idiot. 

“That explains quite a bit,” she chewed on her bottom lip, frowning. “But still. She was so weird. ” 

Nessa shrugged helplessly. “She’s one of those Gillikin Nobles. You know how they are.”

That was true. Elphaba, being the governor’s daughter (as much as he hated to admit it), needed to know of most nobility in Oz. Her and Nessa had both slogged through that section of their tutoring, though, and she didn’t remember much about the Uplands, other than that they were weird. She didn’t even remember where in Gillikin Country they lived. 

“And, you know, I met her friends on my way here,” Nessa said offhandedly, “They were also quite odd.”

Ah, so they had encountered Nessa before Galinda had returned to their room. It was a dubious part of Galinda’s story, but at least she hadn’t outright lied. “They were also rushing Galinda to the infirmary, so I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt until I meet them.”

“ You ? Give someone the benefit of the doubt?” Nessa gasped melodramatically, “Is the sky falling? Has the world frozen over?”

“Oh, shut up, ” a pillow hit Nessa square in the face, but did nothing to deter her laughter. 

“You like her!” She giggled, batting away another pillow. “You wouldn’t be fixating on her this much if you didn’t. You think she’s pretty !”

“No?!” Elphaba denied it adamantly. “No! She– no. I do not–hmm.” 

Damn it. She was starting to think Nessa had gotten a bit of magic too, to account for the mind reading she was doing. 

“You do! Oz, that’s the worst when the pretty ones are mean,” Nessa patted Elphaba’s arm sympathetically. “It’ll be okay. There, there.” It was so sarcastic, she nearly laughed. 

She groaned, putting her face in her hands. Nessa’s cackling started up again, and she readied herself to be teased for the rest of the evening.

Such is the way of younger siblings, she thought to herself. 

***

When Elphaba returned to her dorm, the sun had long since fallen beyond the horizon. Shiz was just as beautiful in the moonlight , in her opinion, lit only by the lamps and candles mounted to the walls. It cast the whole university in a warm, yellow glow, sharply contrasted by the dark blues of the surrounding grounds. 

She wandered, for a while. Much like she had earlier that day, only now it was borne out of a sense of procrastination rather than excitement. What if she went back to her room, and Galinda had somehow changed the locks? What if she got back, only for Galinda to have complained to Madame Morrible about her? 

There were a thousand things that could go wrong. But, when she finally arrived at her room after an hour of deliberating and convincing herself, Galinda didn’t answer the knock on the door. Then again, she hadn’t answered the first time, either. 

Elphaba pushed open the door, closing it quietly behind her. The room was unchanged from how it’d been when she’d left; the boxes were mostly pushed to Galinda’s side of the room, the few extra clothes and toiletries she’d managed to scrounge for lined up by her dresser, and the glass that’d fallen to the floor neatly swept away and thrown out. It was empty, as far as she could tell. No one was out on the balcony. No one was hiding amidst the numerous boxes. 

Galinda wasn’t there. Thank Oz. 

Quickly, Elphaba set about her nighttime routine, moving as fast as she possibly could. If Galinda got back… 

Thankfully, she was able to get ready for bed without Galinda storming into the room. She doused the lights, placed her mother’s green bottle under her pillow, and laid quietly on the much-nicer mattress than her one back home. She closed her eyes, and slept. Or, well, she tried. 

Her mind was still reeling, playing back her conversation with Madame Morrible, her first interaction with Galinda. Shiz was a dream and a nightmare all at once, it seemed. She would get to learn magic with Madame Morrible, but she would be surrounded by dozens of judgmental young adults at all times. Nessa could only help so much, and she would be utterly alone otherwise. And then Galinda… Oz, living with her would be awful, if that afternoon was anything to go by. 

But, well, Elphaba didn’t exactly need to be in her room the whole time. There was the library, the grounds, the classrooms… there were plenty of other places she could go if she was feeling trapped. Her and Galinda might live together now, but that didn’t mean they needed to see each other a whole lot. 

Gradually, she allowed the giddiness and near-overwhelming joy of freedom to wash over her once more. It had diminished earlier, but it came back in full force now. She was at Shiz. Her. She had just spent a full day at Shiz. It was unreal in the best of ways, and even now it felt like a dream. 

She couldn’t wait to begin her lessons with Madame Morrible. Taming the raging fire under her skin was something she’d longed for since before she’d known what magic was. It would be a lifelong dream fulfilled, and she might get to meet the Wizard! 

Elphaba smiled to herself, hiding it in her pillow. Who would have thought that she, of all people, would make it into Shiz so easily? She hadn’t even thought to apply; had resigned herself to a life of misery and quiet resentment by her father’s side. Fuck, she wished she could have seen his face when Madame Morrible told him she was coming to Shiz. Nothing less than a heart attack would surprise her, honestly. 

Suddenly, the door creaked, and Elphaba froze. 

Very slowly, the door eased open, and a lamp flicked on. Footsteps walked to the other side of the room. They were heels– likely fancy ones. 

Galinda, Elphaba thought. Who else would it be? She was faced away from the door, but she didn’t dare turn to see. Her shoulders slowly untensed, and she forced her breathing to become more even. Better for Galinda to think she was asleep, if only so she could avoid a conversation. 

For a time, Galinda puttered around her side of the room, quietly setting her bed. All the while, Elphaba remained frozen, waiting for her to finish. Eventually, the sounds from the other side of the room slowed, and then stopped. The lick turned off. The room was completely silent, save for faint breathing from Galinda’s side. 

At last, Elphaba allowed herself to relax, sinking into the mattress. Tomorrow, she could wake early, and avoid more conversation. And then she could go to Madame Morrible’s class and learn all the magic Galinda was jealous of her for. 

Elphaba fell into an uneasy sleep. She was woken some time in the night by the sound of faint sobs, but she returned to sleep moments later. Surely, it was a trick of her subconscious. 

Chapter Text

When Elphaba woke the next morning, Galinda was already gone. How she had managed to do that was beyond her; Elphaba tended to pride herself on rising with the sun. And here, on her second day at Shiz (Shiz! Her, at Shiz!), she’d woken before the sun was even visible over the horizon. 

Oz, Galinda must be a freak morning person. She had seemed overly jittery and almost frantically energetic. It would make sense. Then again, she could have also just left early so that she didn’t have to interact with Elphaba. That would also make sense. 

Whatever. Elphaba couldn’t spend all morning obsessing over Galinda’s odd behaviour. She didn’t even care all that much. Galinda was weird, and stuck-up, and not pretty, despite what Nessa insisted. 

Sighing, she clambered out of bed, lamenting her lack of clothing and supplies. She would likely need to go shopping with her meagre funds, soon. If Madame Morrible managed to get anything from her father, she’d be shocked at his sudden change of heart. In that unlikely series of events, she wouldn’t need to shop, but since it was, again, extremely unlikely, she would have to buy at least a few things. She could always ask to borrow something from Nessa, but she loathed being a burden on her younger sister. 

When she scanned the room, she found a delivery of the standard Shiz uniform, probably from Madame Morrible. She dressed quickly, ignoring the way her skin clashed horribly against the blue of the uniform. Looking like a fool was not something new to her, after all. 

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of scheduling, paperwork, and meetings. Apparently last-minute enrollment wasn’t too uncommon for Shiz, so they had the majority of the paperwork ready. But, they had already sorted the schedule, making Elphaba’s class selection limited at best. Besides Madame Morrible’s lessons, of course. 

The thought of learning magic, truly and properly, was the only thing that kept her awake through endless guidance meetings and signatures and teachers who openly stared at her. Controlling the wildfire that she’d kept stifled was… enticing. It was terrifying enough to be unsure when her… outbursts would happen, and the prospect of keeping that fire under control for the rest of her life was the worst thing she could imagine. Madame Morrible would help her control it, help her tame it. She could see it so clearly in her mind; working alongside Madame Morrible and the Wizard, performing incredible feats of magic, dazzling the Ozians until they forgot about the Green. 

She only had to sign a few more papers. 

“Unfortunately,” the student advisor before her sneered condescendingly, “we shall require written proof from Madame Morrible herself to enroll you in her seminar. She’s quite selective, you understand.” He looked her up and down with barely concealed disgust. 

Elphaba only barely restrained herself from strangling the man. “I was informed that she would sort out the logistics today,” she said through gritted teeth. Be the bigger person, be the bigger person, be the bigger person. “She wanted to begin immediately.”

The man smiled nastily. “Well, in that case, until she has contacted us about the matter, you are not enrolled in her seminar. You will attend the usual first-year classes until then. Here you are,” he handed her a schedule, and turned back to his paperwork, clearly dismissing her. 

Be the bigger person, Elphaba reminded herself, forcibly unclenching her fists before she cut herself. You cannot get yourself thrown out of Shiz on the first day of classes because you punched the student advisor. Madame Morrible would give her lessons. She would learn far more than the schools and tutors in Munchkinland had taught her. She would meet the Wizard. She could not afford to fuck up, now.

Sighing, she stood from the uncomfortable chair and stalked down the hall. The large clock in the courtyard chimed as she was walking, signifying the end of morning classes, but Elphaba paid it no mind. Instead, she ducked into the nearest alcove she could find, and hunched over the schedule she’d been given. 

Until Madame Morrible confirmed it, she could not properly enroll. She would not be allowed to attend the seminar, nor specialized classes. How long that would take to sort out, she didn’t know. But, she considered, it would be foolish of her to ignore the opportunity to attend all classes until then. She had a perfectly regular schedule in front of her right now, that would allow her to learn. And, above all else, Elphaba wanted to learn. 

Scanning the schedule, she found the afternoon class for that day. History. Her favourite subject throughout her tutoring. Nessa had hated it, calling it boring. She’d spent all of their lessons digging a groove into the wood of their desk, while their tutor had droned on in the background. Elphaba had to admit, their usual lessons were dull even to her. But, when she was allowed a book, she could spend hours reading it underneath the desk, out of sight while their tutor wrote dates and addresses on the blackboard. 

Idly, she wondered what history would be taught at such a prestigious university. Her schooling (and later, tutoring, when she’d become too ‘disruptive’) had focused on Munchkinland and the Wizard above all else. Surely their history professor would teach them about the nation as a whole! 

Oz, she was so excited. Her first proper class at Shiz!

The brief break between morning and afternoon classes was spent hunting down her classroom. Logically, she knew that all the other first-years were equally lost, but, well… they stared at her more. 

Eventually, after resorting to asking one of the professors, she located her history classroom. Upon opening the door, she was struck with how real it all felt. Wandering through the halls was incredible, and dreamlike, and it hadn’t felt like reality. But now…she was about to sit down for history class. Her first class as a student at Shiz. At Shiz! This was completely real now, and nothing could take it away from her. The realisation was both parts gleeful and terrifying, and she felt the first stirrings of nausea in the pit of her stomach. 

There were a few students already seated in their chairs, and Elphaba rushed to do the same. Selecting a seat in the first row, she went about preparing for class with what little supplies she could pick up from the library or the student advisor’s office. 

Steadily, the rest of the students trickled through the door as the minutes ticked by. After a little while, Nessa came in, greeting Elphaba with a wide smile as she took the spot next to her. She laughed to herself at Nessa’s visible excitement, as she practically vibrated in place. It was nice to see her sister so excited about something. Moments before class was about to start, Elphaba glanced up to see Galinda and her little friends enter the room. Jolting, she hastily looked back at the desk in front of her. Hopefully Galinda hadn’t seen. How would she act, knowing that Elphaba was in her class? 

When she was sure that Galinda and co. were seated, she tentatively raised her eyes. There she was, in all her annoyingly pink glory, chatting with her friends. She looked no less worse for wear than she had when they’d first met, unfairly. If anything, Galinda only looked calmer. There wasn’t a trace of her earlier wild panic, or anxiety. Perhaps she was more relaxed around her friends? 

Suddenly, Galinda tensed, and her eyes snapped over to meet Elphaba’s own. Instantly, Elphaba prepared herself for some sort of disgusted look, a confrontation, a sneer, but…it never came. Instead, Galinda simply looked at her. The blankness of her gaze was unnerving, sending shivers crawling along the back of Elphaba’s neck. It was as though she was looking through Elphaba, into her soul, or her mind, or whatever it was that made Galinda look so melancholy. 

“Good afternoon, class!”

The voice of their professor interrupted the staring contest, pulling Elphaba’s attention away from her roommate. Elphaba had seen the Goat by his desk before class had started, but now he’d walked into the center of the sunken classroom. 

“I am Dr. Dillamond,” a sudden spark of recognition flared. She’d seen him at the opening ceremony. “I will be your history professor for the duration of your time at Shiz. Now, as this is the first day, I will only be going over the different outcomes and course units we shall cover in this term…”

Dr. Dillamond continued, but Elphaba spotted movement out of the corner of her eye. Glancing up, she saw that Galinda’s little sycophants had begun to whisper to one another, sneering down at Dr. Dillamond. The boy laughed silently at something the girl had said, smiling meanly. 

Anger curdled in her stomach, its sour taste creeping up her throat. Oz, they really were everywhere, weren’t they? Elphaba hadn’t properly interacted with Galinda’s friends, but by their pretentious appearance and holier-than-thou expressions alone, she could easily pick them out as bigots. At least Galinda wasn’t participating, listening raptly to Dr. Dillamond instead of her friends. Rooming with her would have been even worse for Elphaba. Maybe Galinda was, at minimum, a little okay.

Then, she instantly proved that thought wrong.

Galinda raised her hand delicately. “Dr. Dillamond?” She asked, voice high and clear. 

“Yes, miss…?”

“Galinda Upland. I was wondering, sir, if there was any other reading material you would recommend for this class?” She had a faint, fake-looking smile held in place, still somehow managing to sound strangely smart, yet condescending. Oz, would she never stop doubting the professors? First Madame Morrible, and now Dr. Dillamond. 

Dr. Dillamond, however, perked up at her question. “Well, you pose a smart question. I highly encourage my students to study independently of this class to add to our pool of background knowledge. If you wish to receive a supplemental list of material, you may see me after class, Miss Glllinda.”

Within a split-second, Galinda’s demeanor changed from sickly sweet to utterly furious. The moment Dr. Dillamond mispronounced her name, Elphaba saw her flinch violently. Then, her expression fluctuated between confusion and…sadness, maybe, before settling on white-hot rage. She straightened, her shoulders back and chin held high. Elphaba blinked, stunned at the sudden transformation. Never had she seen Galinda appear so authoritative, so void of that constant nervous energy. 

“That’s not my name.” 

The words were hissed, spoken low and dangerous, but the whole class heard it. Frowning, Elphaba glanced back at Dr. Dillamond, whose ears had abruptly flicked backwards. 

“My apologies,” he said, bitterly, “but, as I’m sure you are aware, we Goats lack upper front teeth. Hence the mispronunciation, Miss Glinda.”

Again, Galinda flinched. Then… It could have been a trick of the afternoon light, or Elphaba’s distance, but for a moment, Galinda’s eyes shimmered.

“It’s Ga-linda. Never Glinda. That is not me,” she sneered. But, Elphaba, now on alert, could spot the cracks in her performance, in her strange word choice. Even from a distance, she could see how Galinda’s hands shook, and her lip wobbled ever-so-slightly. Miniscule signs, but Galinda felt oddly easy to read. Something else was going on, here. Something other than Galinda simply being a racist bitch. 

Her eyes had lit up yesterday, too. The rest of her behaviour could be explained away, and maybe Galinda was truly a snobby rich kid, but this– this was not something Elphaba could simply let go. 

Dr. Dillamond said something else, smoothing over the interaction with practiced ease, but Elphaba didn’t hear it. As the lesson carried on, Elphaba continued to tune it out, much more interested in Galinda’s continually unsettled expression. Some time through the lesson, the practiced haughtiness and authority shattered, and she slumped in her seat, leaning down to place her head in her hands. Elphaba saw one of her little friends whisper to her, but she shrugged them off. 

When Galinda finally glanced up, her eyes fell directly on Elphaba. Who’d been staring at her for the better half of the class. Dammit. 

Galinda’s eyes widened, and Elphaba hastily looked away, praying that she wouldn’t make a scene. She would rather take being yelled at in their dorm later than yet another public humiliation. Ideally, she would not have to deal with either, but Galinda was much too rich and popular to not call attention to it in one way or another. 

Thankfully, Galinda said nothing, and she spent the rest of the class digging her nails into a groove in her desk. By the end of the lesson, her sharp nails had worn it down considerably, and she almost laughed at the thought of Nessa doing the same thing years before. In a stark role reversal, Elphaba had not paid attention to a word Dr. Dillamond had said, while Nessa’s notebook was overflowing with notes as they left the class. 

“What in Oz was that?” Nessa hissed to her as they left. “She’s just as bad as you were saying.”

She’s not, Elphaba almost said, and then stopped herself. Why had she so instantly jumped to Galinda’s defence? Solely because she’d seen Galinda’s trembling hands? The small hairline fractures in her mask? Wearing a mask was no guarantee of anything, save the desire to hide. What Galinda was hiding was almost certainly not kindness. If Elphaba threw off her mask at that instant, she would not find a good person hiding beneath. 

“I told you,” she said instead. 

Nessa aligned her notes, placing them in her lap as they began to leave class. “Shame, really,” she said, “I see what you meant about her being pretty.”

“I never said that!” Elphaba whispered harshly, glancing around to see if anyone had heard. Thankfully, Galinda and her friends were still packing up on the opposite end of the classroom, but if they’d been any closer…

“No, but you were thinking it, I know you! I mean, I was thinking it too, and I’m sure many others are as well. You are most certainly not alone. Bye, Dr. Dillamond!” Nessa waved at their professor as they exited the room. 

Elphaba waved her own goodbye, ignoring Nessa’s admission that she’d found Galinda pretty. Bad taste, the both of them. Perhaps it came from their mother, who’d married a cruel man like their father. Galinda was not pretty, not in the same way the girls in Munchkinland had been, or even the other girls at Shiz. She was… odd. Unique. Effortlessly elegant, and yet a total mess. She emanated a sense of daintiness that did not match up with the intense look in her eyes. Her blonde hair was deftly pinned back, and her clothes were always fashionable, but there was a frazzled, almost manic energy to her. Galinda had appeared so achingly fragile yesterday, but she’d snapped at their teacher the moment he offended her.

Galinda Upland did not match up. She was a contradiction, and every moment Elphaba thought she’d figured her out, she would reveal some new hidden feature and Elphaba would be back to square one. 

Galinda was… talking to Dr. Dillamond. Elphaba stopped walking, making Nessa nearly crash into her. What was Galinda talking to him about? Should she wait and see what was going on? 

“Come on,” Nessa nudged her, snapping her out of her thoughts, “That’s none of our business. Let’s go.”

Frowning, Elphaba turned away. Nessa was right. It wasn’t her business, but… Galinda was so utterly bewildering. No. She had more important things to focus on. She needed to meet Madame Morrible. She needed to go shopping. She couldn’t afford to watch Galinda all the time. 

Yet, as they walked away, Elphaba stole one more glance back at Galinda. She looked sad. And Elphaba wanted to know why. 

***

He had called her Glinda. 

How did he know? She hadn’t told anyone, not even her own parents. Or, had he not known? Was this where her name came from? 

-“I shall henceforth be known as… Glinda.”

“Are you sure?”-

-flashes of green, and the chanting crowd asking to see Glinda the Good–

–stupid, I don’t even know why I said it–

Wait. She had heard that one before. She’d felt the taste of the words on her lips, the sudden jealousy washed away by disappointment. She’d– had she been the one to change her name? Had she chosen to use the name her history professor had used? Why? 

The jealousy was potent, in that memory. Galinda could still feel the oily touch of it down her back, could feel it breathing in her ear for the whole damn lesson. There wasn’t much more to the memory, not yet– only the smell of jasmine flowers and the brush of someone’s hand slipping out of her own. Elphaba’s? She didn’t know who else she could have possibly felt such jealousy over. 

Oz, it was strange to feel a stranger’s emotions for a stranger. Glinda’s love for Elphie was wholly foreign to Galinda and Elphaba. She hadn’t even recalled the nickname until the night before, when she’d woken with the name on her tongue. Glinda’s emotions were tangling up in her own, and she couldn’t undo it. 

What she could do, though, was apologize to Dr. Dillamond. Elphaba was not the only one she’d remembered, after all. Something terrible happened to the Goat, she knew it. She could feel it with the terrible guilt that accompanied every word he said. Until Galinda could figure out what happened to him and stop it, he did not need her snapping at him for something that was not his fault. 

As she began to pack up her books, Galinda turned to Pfannee and ShenShen. “You two go on ahead of me,” she said quietly, glancing over at Elphaba and her sister out of the corner of her eye. Fuck, Nessa. She’d forgotten the lingering resentment that would rise up whenever she’d think of her. 

“What? Why?” ShenShen asked, jolting her out of her thoughts. 

“I need to apologise to Dr. Dillamond,” she explained. 

Pfanne frowned, cocking his head. “About what? He was saying your name wrong, that’s not your fault.”

Right. “I didn’t need to be rude about it. Especially when it’s not really his fault.”

“I mean, it kind of is…”

“Okay. We can talk about that later,” Galinda closed her eyes, and prayed for Lureline to give her strength, “but I’m gonna go talk to him, so don’t worry about waiting for me.”

ShenShen simply gave her a look, grabbing Pfannee by the elbow and dragging him out of the classroom. Well, that’ll be something to deal with later, she thought, sighing. Whatever. She wouldn’t dwell on it. Not now, not when it could trigger yet another influx of memories. They were hovering at the edges of her subconscious, laying in wait for the slightest slip of her iron-clad self control. If she wasn’t careful, they’d slip through what few defenses (denials) she had left. 

She shook her head, hoping halfheartedly that the physical action would dispel the lingering memories. Walking over to Dr. Dillamond’s desk, she noticed that only a few students remained, including Elphaba and Nessa, who were loitering in the doorway. For a moment, Elphaba glanced at her. Galinda hurried to look away before she could be caught staring. 

“Dr. Dillamond?” She asked, clutching her bag in a futile attempt to stifle her rising anxiety. “Could I speak with you for a moment?”

The Goat looked up at her, surprise crossing over his face. “Of course, Miss…” Galinda flinched. “Of course,” he redirected, much to her relief. 

Hesitantly, Galinda scanned the classroom. There were only one or two students left, who were almost definitely distracted. She breathed a minute sigh. At least there would be no one who could overhear her explanation. She’d been ostracized for her ‘dreams’ enough back home, she did not want word to get out here, too. 

“I…” Lureline, how could she say this without sounding insane? “I wanted to apologise.” There. That was a good start. 

“Oh?” Again, Dr. Dillamond’s voice took on a surprised tone. Galinda felt utterly horrible. 

“I have…previously had negative experiences. With people mispronouncing my name,” no, no, no, she still sounded ridiculous saying this. The truth was unbelievable, but her attempts at an explanation were lacklustre at best– laughable at worst. “I– It is no excuse for my behavior, however. I am truly sorry, Dr. Dillamond.” It would be better to simply apologise. Explanation or not, she was genuinely apologetic. 

Dr. Dillamond did not speak. In the silence, Galinda shifted her weight, eyes fixed on her feet. This would be the moment when Dr. Dillamond would reject her lacking apology and she’d never be able to warn him about what was coming–

“It’s quite alright, my dear.”

Shocked, Galinda’s head jerked up to stare at him. How was it alright? She’d– she had snapped at him in front of the entire class! She had humiliated him! Saying that it was alright was ridiculous! 

“I had assumed there was something else afoot,” he continued, studying her with uncomfortably keen eyes, “Your denial was rather…vehement.”

Ah. “Yes, sorry. I did not mean to lash out. I wasn’t expecting it to evoke such a,” she gestured aimlessly, “reaction.”

Again, Dr. Dillamond remained silent, just looking at her. His expression had changed from confused surprise to that of someone who’d just had a rather large revelation. Whatever he thought he knew now made Galinda shuffle in place, unsure. 

Dr. Dillamond cleared his throat, finally looking away. “Now,” he said, “as I am physically incapable of pronouncing your first name, I can refer to you as Miss Upland. Would that be agreeable?” 

“Oh!” Galinda hadn’t even considered that! “Oh, yes. Yes, I would like that. Thank– thank you so much, Dr. Dillamond. I’m very sorry, again.”

The Goat chuckled. “Don’t dwell on it, Miss Upland. I’ve had much worse said with no apology given. You, at least, gave me that.” 

Oddly, his words did very little to make her feel better. 

“I– okay,” she said, somewhat helplessly. What else was she to say? He had accepted her apology, though she had not expected him to. “Thank you.”

Embarrassed beyond belief, Galinda slung her bag over her shoulder and hastily moved to leave the room. Sweet Oz, she needed to get out of here, away from the memories and phantom voices, and the imprint of blood-red  letters burned into her eyelids. 

–ANIMALS SHOULD BE SEEN, NOT HEARD–

–his cries as he’s dragged out are awful, and Galinda turns to Elphie, but–

–she wakes up, and they’re both gone, 

where did they go, why did they leave her behind–

Fuck. The memory had come on unlike any other, seamlessly blending into her surroundings, until she could no longer tell what was reality. Watching Dr. Dillamond be yanked out the door she was now standing in front of, only for him to crumble like smoke in the wind was… disorienting. 

Shakily, Galinda squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled. Breathe, she told herself, just breathe. It wasn’t real. Dr. Dillamond is fine. Belatedly, she realised that she’d halted her steps, rooted to the floor in front of the doorway. She had no idea how long she’d been standing there. Before, when these memories had welled up within her mind, it had seemed like a matter of seconds, but…

“Miss Upland,” Galinda nearly jumped out of her skin, and a flood of unrestrained guilt slammed into her like a wave. Hearing his voice once more, after that memory, free of desperation and terror was too much whiplash for her tired mind to handle. 

Slowly, she turned back to face the real Dr. Dillamond, praying he couldn’t see the tears gathering along her lashes. Judging by the concerned expression he wore, she could tell her prayers were unsuccessful. “Yes?” She asked. 

“If you are ever in need of someone to talk to,” he said, “know that I am always available. I am often in my office after teaching hours.”

Warmth bloomed like a spring flower in Galinda’s chest, chasing away the dregs of the memories that clung to her. Despite the fact that she could not truly confide in him, the offer was lovely. An adult, finally taking her somewhat seriously. “Thank you, Dr. Dillamond,” she offered a wobbly smile, “I’ll see you next class.”

Dr. Dillamond nodded at her, but she barely saw it through her blurry vision. As soon as she could, she spun on her heel and rushed out of the classroom, unable to contain her tears any longer. 

As she walked briskly through the halls, the tears only continued. Rounding another corner, Galinda thanked Lureline that no other students were present to see her fall apart. Her eyes burned by the time she made it outside, taking refuge in the grounds’ gardens. Despite her light-coloured clothing, she opted to sit on the ground, tucked away between the hedges. No one would find her here. 

Finally, finally, she could allow the tears to flow freely. She no longer fought the heaving sobs that’d threatened to overtake her in Dr. Dillamond’s classroom. Here, hidden away in the gardens, she could cry and cry, and let the guilt and the memories loose. 

– “I found him,” Elphie whispers, staring blankly forward

“Who?” Glinda asks

“He was alone, and he was scared, and he didn’t recognise me,” she continues, “he– He couldn’t speak, Glinda, he–

The memories hurt. She might scream, overwhelmed with the pain, and the guilt, and the terror of realisation–

–Galinda names herself Galinda on the steps of the train, but she becomes Glinda the moment Elphie leaves–

–Glinda wakes up to a classroom where the only two people she loves are missing–

Why was she always left behind? Her parents, her childhood friends who grew wary of her dreams, her tutors who didn’t want to teach a mad child–

Regret is a funny thing–

“–ust wanted to thank you again, Madame Morrible, for accepting me into your seminar.”

Elphie’s–no, Elphaba’s, they didn’t know each other yet–voice blended so seamlessly into her rampaging memories that Galinda didn’t think she was real, at first. It wasn’t until she continued speaking, that Galinda’s drowning mind finally surfaced over the sea of voices and images. 

“Truly, it’s an opportunity I will not squander. I won’t let you down.” Elphaba’s excitement was obvious, even while muffled from the hedges. Cautiously, Galinda lifted a hand to pull aside a branch of the hedge, catching a glimpse of Elphaba and Morrible on the other side. 

“Oh, dearie, I know you won’t,” if Elphaba’s voice pulled Galinda to the surface, Morrible’s shoved her back down. 

–she calls Galinda ‘dearie’ for the first time after Elphie leaves–

–her nails are like claws where they dig into her arms–

– “We must present a united front against the Wicked Witch, dearie,” she says, as though Glinda has a choice in the matter, “It does not look good for us if you continue to speak fondly of her.”

“Elphie wasn’t–”

“The Witch,” her voice is like ice, and Glinda shivers away from it, “is evil, Glinda–”

Oz, Galinda wished she could curl up in her childhood bedroom and cry, alone and isolated from the world. She’d fled to the gardens to escape the possibility of Elphie being in their room, but she’d followed her out anyway. Everything hurt. It hurt to move, it hurt to think without the memories forcing their way through. 

A quiet sob tore out of Galinda’s throat, and she slapped a hand over her mouth. If Elphaba saw her like this… if Morrible saw her like this…

Galinda had no idea how long she remained there, curled into the grass, heaving quiet sobs into her hands. Elphaba and Morrible had left, surely, but Galinda remained hidden. She couldn’t go back to her room, not now. Elphaba could return to it at any moment. She could not go to Pfannee and ShenShen. They would not understand. 

It wasn’t fair. Shiz was supposed to be safe. It was supposed to be freedom. For years, Galinda had imagined walking into Shiz, the shackles her parents had put on her melting away. She’d imagined skipping class with friends, and sneaking out to meet a lover under the cover of darkness, and learning how to protect herself from the nightmares that plagued her. Instead, Shiz had magnified her pain tenfold, allowing the nightmares to invade her waking moments. 

It wasn’t fair. She didn’t know Elphaba. But, she knew Elphie, her beloved, trusted friend whom she’d given up everything for somehow. Her memories had not lied yet, and the sense of guilt and sacrifice was the strongest amongst the foreign emotions that clouded her mind. What had she done to protect Elphaba?  

Not enough, the voice in the back of her mind whispered, You left her abandoned for far too long. Nothing you could ever do now can make up for that.

Galinda remembered— 

She remembered the broom, and the anguish, and–

– “You could’ve taken me with you,” she says, hurt and jealous all at once. “You can trust me.”

“Next time, I will.”

Next time, Elphie offers. Galinda refuses.

She regrets it for the rest of her life.

Chapter Text

Things I know:

Galinda stared down at the title she’d written on a scrap of paper she’d torn from her notebook. It felt horribly inadequate, considering the context, but it would have to do. 

Despite appearances, Galinda was a logical person. When initially faced with her awful nightmares, she had religiously recorded them in a journal every morning, until she could pick out the patterns, the recurring faces, and names. It’d been largely useless, of course– her dreams had rarely made sense, and she remembered very little of them when she woke, but it had soothed something inside her to narrow her behemoth-like dreams into curling letters on paper. Taking something so large and unfathomable and making it small would help her now, too.

-I am getting memories of the future as if I lived it

-It’s usually triggered by familiar events– (deja vu?)

Frowning down at the two points she’d written, Galinda added a small subsection. 

Things that trigger the memories(?):

-Elphaba. Everything about her

-Familiar phrases– doesn’t seem to matter who says it

-Familiar situations– (again with the deja vu)

-Nessa

-Dr. Dillamond (both the name pronunciation and whatever happens to him)

Galinda hesitated. 

My name, she added. 

Her name. Oz, even her name. It was growing harder and harder to distinguish herself from Glinda, to be able to hear Galinda instead. Even from those who said it correctly, she’d break into a momentary panic before her mind caught up with her ears. 

Sighing, she closed her eyes, ignoring the headache building in her temples. It seemed ever-present, these days, constantly brewing in the background of her mind, like the weight of the memories were pressing down on her skull. She’d ignore it. She always had, even when she was a child. 

Okay, she thought, looking down at the paper, now for the hard part. The part she’d dreaded since she was a little girl, writing down her fuzzy, half-formed nightmares. It always made the headaches worse, the memories threatening to come to life in front of her. 

Things I’ve remembered:

Once, when Galinda was thirteen, she’d woken up from a dream she no longer remembered. Desperate to recall it, she’d clung to the lingering remnants of the dream with a ferocity she hadn’t matched since, and painstakingly wrote what little she could recall into her journal. The results were sparse, only one or two sentences. But, while she’d struggled and strained her mind to hold on to even the barest of memories, they’d come to life. 

Galinda had been horrified when the woman— whom she now knew to be Elphaba— had appeared in her bedroom like a shimmering mirage. The spectre of her friend hadn’t looked at her, hadn’t spoken a single word in her direction. No, Elphaba instead hunched over the oddly-shaped book she held in her gaunt hands, and began to chant in a lilting, musical tone. The yellow glow on her green skin was sickly, and terrible, and her form had shifted and blurred with each passing moment. Galinda had felt a sudden pang of terrible longing and guilt, so fierce that she’d sworn she’d been stabbed in the heart. 

By the time her parents had stormed into her room, demanding to know who she was shouting at, the ghost of Elphaba had already vanished. For a long time after, she tried to talk to the people she’d see flickering in the corners of her vision, hopelessly trying to get something, anything, from them. It had never worked. Her parents had disliked those few months especially. Galinda had learned to not remember, to ignore the stirrings of unfamiliar emotion, to forget the things she’d dreamt. 

But now, for the first time in years, Galinda was trying to remember. If she welcomed the visions, would she forever be cursed with hallucinations and ghosts following in her shadow? But– no, things were different. Elphaba was real, no longer a dream, no longer confined to her mind and her bedroom. She needed to do this, now. 

Steeling her nerves, Galinda began to write.

-Something bad happens to Elphaba

-Dr. Dillamond is taken away

-Morrible is not to be trusted

-I become friends with Nessa, Boq, and Fiyero(?)

It was a simple list. Simple enough that if anyone found it, they wouldn’t be able to truly understand its contents. Galinda couldn’t trust that her writings would be safe, not here. Morrible lurked around every corner, wielding enough eyes and ears that if she caught wind of Galinda remembering things that’d yet to happen…

She shuddered. Even thinking about the possibility was terrifying. 

She was being paranoid. There was no way to excuse it. But, she thought a little paranoia was warranted in this situation. It certainly wouldn’t hurt anyone, at least. 

Quietly, Galinda folded up the paper and set it under several makeup containers in her vanity drawer. As she’d been writing, sunset had come and gone and the shadows were now drawn long and dark against the walls. To her relief– and a little bit of guilt at just how large that relief was– Elphaba was still gone. Her mind was weak enough after meeting Dr. Dillamond and straining to write everything down. Seeing Elphaba now would only send her spiralling further. 

Laying down in her bed, Galinda sighed. Only a few days into Shiz, and it somehow had proved to hold more buried memories than her own home. It was both terrible and relieving to finally get answers, however painful and confusing those answers were. She could form the beginnings of a plan, at least. 

Figuring out what would happen to Dr. Dillamond would be tricky. Perhaps she could attempt to purposely trigger a memory? She’d never done it before– lack of reason and lack of desire colliding enough to send a jolt of fear through her stomach. If she purposely triggered a memory, she would have no idea what it would be until it was over. What if she remembered something awful? What if that was the one thing holding back the ocean of memories threatening to flood her? 

No, she would refrain from doing that unless necessary. 

Elphaba, on the other hand… befriending people was easy enough. For her, friends came and went fast, each of them put off by her uncanniness. Elphaba, though–Elphaba would understand that. There was a calling, a whisper of find her, find her, that’d dissipated upon their meeting, and had now transformed into help her, save her. The very bones within Galinda’s body cried out in anguish wherever Elphaba eyed her with distrust, or frustration. They’d gotten off on the wrong foot, but if Galinda’s memories could be trusted with anything, it was that the two of them had been the very best of friends. More, if the way her heart fluttered whenever she caught sight of Elphaba was to be believed. 

Yes, Galinda could befriend Elphaba. A little grovelling, a little flattery and kindness to smooth over their previous interactions… it was doable. 

She could do this.

***

Elphaba woke to screams. 

By the time she’d snuck back into her shared rooms, Galinda had already been fast asleep in her bed, curled into a tight ball under her blankets. Turned away from the door as she was, Elphaba could not see her expression, but her agitation had been evident in the tense set of her shoulders. Even then, even asleep, Galinda was managing to confuse her. 

As silently as possible, Elphaba had gone to bed, ignoring the whispers in the back of her mind of Galinda’s continuing strangeness. What little sleep she’d managed to get was fraught and restless. And then, the screaming started. 

Jolting upright, Elphaba flung a hand out to get hold of her glasses. Narrowly avoiding poking herself in the eye in her haste, she slid them on and looked frantically around the room. 

To her utter shock, Galinda was the source of the screams. Across the room, she was writhing madly in her bed, as though fighting an unseen spectre. Thank Oz, Elphaba thought for a moment, there’s no intruder. Then… fuck, what is she doing? 

“Stop, stop, no–” Galinda cried out, shrinking back to one edge of her bed, her hands held up to protect her face, “No, please stop it, stop it!” Her voice was desperate and pleading, the words sounding painful.

Fuck. As much as Elphaba disliked Galinda, watching her twist away from whatever horror her dreams were showing her was… uncomfortable. Slowly, she stood up and approached Galinda’s bed. She continued her begging, the words slurring together in terror. Elphaba could only make out the occasional ‘no,’ or ‘please,’ amidst the loud sobs. 

“Galinda?” She called, reaching the edge of her bed. Hesitantly, she touched Galinda’s shoulder, hoping to wake her. 

Instead, Galinda flinched away from her hand, whispering, “No, don’t call me that, that– it’s not me, stop it, it’s not me–” 

“Galinda, wake up!” Elphaba shouted. Cringing away, Galinda reached up to clutch at her hair, gripping the fine strands tightly as she sobbed. Fuck, Elphaba thought, grabbing at her wrists to pull them away. “Hey, no– you’re going to tear your hair out, Galinda,” at her words, Galinda only fought harder against her hold, her long nails digging into Elphaba’s hands, “Hey. Galinda.”

At her shaking, Galinda’s eyes shot open. “No,” she whispered, staring directly at Elphaba with horrified eyes, as though she’d seen a ghost. Her voice was…odd. As though two people were speaking at once, layered in unison. Her nails dug in deeper, drawing a wince from Elphaba at the biting sensation. “What’ve you done, Elphaba?”

What? Startled, Elphaba released her hands. 

Wordlessly, they fell to Galinda’s sides as she stared. Her blank gaze was unsettling, almost as much as her words had been. It felt less like Galinda was looking at Elphaba, and more like she was looking into her, seeing some awful creature hidden under her skin. She’d seen it before, that first time Galinda had seen her in the courtyard. 

Suddenly, Galinda’s numb expression twisted. Rage, molten and powerful, took its place, and her lips curled into a snarl. Instinctively, Elphaba backed away from the vitriolic fury in her eyes. “Elphaba Thropp,” Galinda said slowly, her voice low and dangerous, that terrible golden glow blooming in her pupils, “what have you done?” 

There was an awful, ringing silence. Elphaba was struck speechless, both by the sheer anger in Galinda’s voice, and by the soft light emanating from her eyes. It was the same as the last time, the same as their first meeting.

What have you done? The words were uncannily similar to her father's throughout her childhood. When she’d allowed her abilities to break things, when another child had come to complain that she’d been rude… when her mother died. 

“What… what are you talking about?” She asked carefully. 

Galinda groaned, pitching forwards to claw at her head. “No, this is all wrong. What am I doing here?” She said through gritted teeth, the tear tracks on her cheeks catching the light. “Why did you do this? Why wouldn’t you listen?”

Elphaba bristled. “Listen, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she snapped, “do not talk to me like that.” 

Grimacing, Galinda let out a wordless hiss. She closed her eyes tightly, brow furrowed in what looked like pain. “Fuck,” she whispered, and Elphaba blinked at the curse. It felt distinctly un-Galinda. When she opened her eyes once again, they were clearer, the golden light dissipated. The pain and anger that’d warped her face slowly faded, as her eyes fixed on her arm. 

“Are you– did I–?” She stammered, panicked and wide-eyed. Her voice was a gutteral, wheezing thing, rattling in her chest, but there was only one. She was back to normal, it seemed.  

“Huh?” Elphaba frowned, glancing down. Her hand that’d been holding Galinda’s arms down had four crescent-shaped scratches along the side of her palm, blood oozing sluggishly down her fingers. 

“Did I–” Galinda began again, before cutting herself off with a harsh shake of her head, “I’m so sorry, I– I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine.”

“What?” She stared at Elphaba, uncomprehending. 

“It’s fine,” she repeated, “you were dreaming.”

Squeezing her eyes shut once more, Galinda put her head in her hands. Her breathing was picking up again. “Fuck,” she whispered for a second time. Oz, that was so weird. 

“It sounds so strange to hear you curse,” the words escaped her mouth without her permission, before she could consider why making fun of the prickly girl who’d just woken screaming from a nightmare might be a bad idea. 

Thankfully, Galinda only snorted, wiping away the remainder of tears. “What, why?”

“You’re just so… proper.”

Galinda laughed, high and bitter. “Oh, you have no idea, Elphaba Thropp.”

The words felt odd. While obviously there was a side to Galinda that she hadn’t seen yet, it felt… familiar. Like Galinda was sharing an inside joke that she didn’t remember the origin of. And the usage of her full name…

Elphaba Thropp, what have you done?

They sat in silence for a moment, until Galinda’s harsh breathing returned to normal, and her eyes were fully clear. The scratches on Elphaba’s hands stung, but the blood had long since dried on her skin, pinching uncomfortably when she drew her knees up to her chest. She allowed the silence to linger for a few more moments, before the awkwardness and curiosity became too much. 

“So,” she said after the moment was up, “the dream?”

As expected, Galinda avoided her gaze. “I’m sorry that I woke you,” she said dully. 

Elphaba narrowed her eyes. “I expect you had no control over it. There’s no need for an apology.”

Her words had almost the exact opposite effect she’d intended. Instead of easing Galinda’s worry, she curled into a similar position as Elphaba, hiding her face in her knees. She heaved a sigh, the breath shaking her whole frame. “I…” she began. Then stopped. Then opened her mouth to continue, only to close it once more. 

Patiently, Elphaba waited for her to gather her thoughts. 

“I…” she sighed again, “I’ve had night terrors since I was a little girl. It was why I was assigned a private suite.”

Oh. Oh, that explained a great deal. Galinda’s strange mixture of anger and shock at her arrival within their room, her early rising… suddenly, aspects of Galinda’s behavior clicked into place. Oz, Elphaba was a fool.

But… nightmares didn’t explain the glowing eyes. Or the strange double-tone her voice had taken on when she’d said ‘what have you done?’. Or her reaction to Dr. Dillamond. One piece of the puzzle had been found, but it only unearthed dozens of other questions. 

Just what was going on with Galinda Upland?

“I’m very sorry,” Galinda whispered, raising her head to rest her chin against her knees, “They’re unpredictable things. I don’t know when the next one will be. I’ll very likely wake you then, too.”

Elphaba frowned. It was the third apology offered within minutes, for something she couldn’t care less about. If Galinda was going to profusely apologize, she would like it to be for something she was actually upset about. Like her staring. Or her treatment of Dr. Dillamond. Or her blatant hatred of Madame Morrible. Waking up in the middle of the night was far from new to Elphaba. When they were young, Nessa would come into her room often in the dead of night, and after their father had shouted at Elphaba for it, she’d continued to sleep lightly. She’d grown used to functioning on fewer hours of sleep than others. Galinda’s night terrors hardly scratched the surface. 

“It’s not in your control,” she shrugged, refusing to accept the apology. 

Sighing, Galinda shook her head, “Irregardless–”

“It’s ‘regardless’.”

“What?” Galinda blinked, still a little teary-eyed. 

“Nevermind.”

“Regardless,” she emphasised, “I apologise for any inconvenience in advance.”

“And regardless of any future inconvenience, it’s still not in your control. It’s fine.”

Galinda shot her a little glare, a bit of that spark in her eyes returning. It was unreasonably adorable. “In that case, if you begin to complain about the noise, I will remind you of this conversation.” 

A laugh was pulled from her lips before she could stifle it. “Maybe once I begin sorcery lessons I can find some kind of dreamless-sleep spell.”

“Ha! Offering to help with skills you don’t yet have,” Galinda raised an eyebrow, a small, teasing smile forming on her unfairly perfect face, “I’m duly impressed.”

“Or, you know, I could just buy some earmuffs and ignore you.”

As she’d hoped, Galinda burst into a small bout of laughter. The two shared a grin, and for a moment, Elphaba was struck with a sensation of deja-vu, dizzying in its intensity. The feeling was broken by the return of Galinda’s frown.

“Thank you for the offer, regardless,” she said with the resignation of someone already defeated. She gave a little, bitter quirk of her lips. “But I’ve tried everything.”

The pity burned in her throat. Surely, Galinda wouldn’t want it. Oz knew that Elphaba despised pity, herself. Perhaps it was her protective nature, perhaps it was the fact that Elphaba had seen that resignation and defeat in the mirror, but she wanted to help. To ease Galinda’s all-too-familiar despair, somehow. 

“Maybe…” she began, taking a moment to think. What could she possibly offer? “Maybe I can ask Madame Morrible about preventing dreams. She might know a way, right?”

Abruptly, what little serenity and calmness Galinda had regained vanished. “No,” she grabbed Elphaba’s uninjured wrist, knuckles white. 

“What?” Taken aback by the sudden vehemence, Elphaba jerked away. 

“Don’t tell Morrible, please,” Galinda begged, her grip firm. “She cannot know, please don’t tell her anything.”

There it was. The oddness, the strangeness. The unexplainable distaste for Madame Morrible. Every single time Elphaba thought she was beginning to understand Galinda, she would throw an Oz-damned wrench into the hazy picture. Sighing, Elphaba conceded, “Okay. I won’t say anything.”

The sheer relief that swept through Galinda’s frame told her that it was the right thing to say. Again, Elphaba wondered exactly why she hated Madame Morrible so. This was more than jealousy, more than simple dislike. Galinda had been scared. 

“Thank you,” she said, looking moments away from sobbing again. 

Elphaba gave her a little half-smile. “No need.”

Hesitantly, Galinda moved to the edge of the bed, avoiding her gaze. “Thank you anyways,” she said, standing, “I–I’m going to go. Freshen up. I need a moment.” Nodding, Elphaba watched her stumble a few steps, before gaining her footing. Wordlessly, Galinda fled the room, the door closing behind her. 

Elphaba sighed, and moved to open the balcony doors. She settled into one of the chairs she’d dragged out there, staring out at the darkened courtyard. 

She would not be getting any more sleep tonight.

***

Regret is a funny thing

“If you remember me…please don’t let me be alone?”

“Oh, Elphie, I’ll always remember you—

No. No, no, no.

Galinda heaved for breath, drowning in the flood of memories. She’d– she was remembering–

She’d always called it remembering in her head because of how vivid the dreams and visions felt, but now– now– 

Now she understood.

She had been sent back. Elphaba had torn through the fabric of time and deposited her in the body and mind of a twelve-year-old child. She remembered, now. Not enough, but the dream had painted a fairly clear picture of what the end results were, at least. 

A scream clawed at the back of her throat, begging to be released. She wanted to destroy something. She wanted to do something, anything, but she couldn’t. Elphaba was almost definitely listening for anything off– Elphaba who sent her back, Elphaba who kissed her tenderly and full of regret, Elphaba who gave her a second chance– so Galinda needed to be quiet. She needed to control her breathing. To bury the burgeoning scream under the weight of her well-cultivated self control. 

Why now? Why would her mind curse her with this knowledge now, of all times? Was it because of Elphaba? Dr. Dillamond? Simply being at Shiz, the source of so many nightmares? Or was it because of what she’d done earlier, recording her memories for the first time in years?

In a way, it was a relief. She knew why, now. She had an explanation. A reason. Her dreams were never only dreams. Her mind had been too young, too fragile to successfully unite the future and the past. It had needed to forcefully separate them, snatches of the future only available in dreams she could scarcely remember. And now…

She’d been given a second chance. Elphaba had given her a way to change things. It was– it was awful. The entirety of the future hung in balance, dependant on her actions. She did not even know how things came to be so awful. If she tried to alter the future, how would she know if it was truly changed? How would she know that she hadn’t simply fulfilled some sort of horrible prophecy? What precious little she knew, what few facts she’d collected about the future were meaningless without knowing how things had turned out that way. 

What if she only made things worse?

Nothing could be worse than that, a faint whisper echoed through her mind, a remnant of whoever it was that she’d become. The memory of pain, aching and bone-deep, was familiar. Galinda had lived with that guilt for years. But now she knew why. She’d been terribly alone, in the future. Terribly guilty. 

Earlier that night, Galinda had been hesitant to induce visions. It felt like so long ago, now. Her fear of seeing something unbearable, which had been so overpowering, was… diminished. She had seen the worst of it in her dream. There could be nothing worse than watching Elphaba send her away to the past, doomed to hardly remember her. 

She needed to know more. If she was going to change things– and she was, she could not allow Elphaba to suffer– she needed to be able to see. Triggering visions would undoubtedly be painful, but maybe if she was prepared for them… Maybe it would be different. 

Things would be different this time. Dr. Dillamond would be safe. Elphaba would not suffer. They would not be alone. Galinda would make sure of it.