Over the Slushie Rainbow (Part One)
This was written for the Glee Reverse Big Bang. Lots of Glee fics are being posted there this week and next, so go check out all the great fics and artwork! http://gleereversebb.livejournal.com/ This fic was prompted by art created by newbie_2u and can be seen here: http://i.imgur.com/nOE5X.jpg Drop by her LJ and give her some kudos for her art.
Beta services provided by gottriplets, who saved me from several embarrassing mistakes (including a reference to a 'butter' dance move) and my really cool best friend Kristina who's not even a Gleek but looked this over as a favor to me and only charged me a bag of Tootsie Pops. I kept tweaking the story even after they'd done their jobs, so any remaining mistakes are mine.
Summary: When Rachel hits her head following a slushie to the face, she wakes up on a Yellow Brick Road and sets off for New York City to see The Wizard. Along the way, she meets new old friends.
"Ding dong, the witch is dead," Rachel hummed to herself as she entered the auditorium ten minutes before rehearsal was scheduled to start. She couldn't wait for the NYADA mixer tomorrow night, so she and Kurt could perform their song and give notice to the other contenders that they were the ones to worry about.
Everything had changed so quickly in the last few days. They had gone together to see Ms. Pillsbury and ask for advice about performing arts schools in New York City, and their guidance counselor had told them about NYADA and the approaching mixer for applicants, and thus had set them on the road to eventual Broadway stardom. They'd quickly thrown together a fun little number from The Wizard of Oz to intimidate the competition, and had all but devoured the entire academy website for every snippet of information that might prove useful to them when they auditioned. She'd nearly swooned when they found a video from Tibideaux-THE Carmen Tibideaux-announcing her intention of hand-picking a few promising students for her new Master Class. Rachel knew she would give anything to study with Tibideaux, the woman was magical on stage and by all reports was an excellent teacher as well.
She climbed the steps to the stage, ready to begin the show choir dance training that Mr. Schue had dubbed Booty Camp. She didn't need the extra help with her dance moves, of course, but she knew some of her teammates did and she was here for the good of the group. Winning at Nationals this year was part of her plan, so she would have to tolerate these extra practices while the less talented Glee members caught up with her years of dance training.
She detoured to kiss Finn, who was looking morose at the prospect of dance training, then joined Quinn, Santana, and Brittany who sat on the floor in their Cheerios uniforms starting to stretch.
"You guys, Ms. Pillsbury told us about this amazing school in New York with the country's top musical theatre training program. Kurt and I are going to apply together," she told them as she pointed and flexed her toes. Santana and Brittany were already doing straddle stretches, holding each other's hands to alternate pulling each other forward into a deeper stretch, and Quinn gestured for Rachel to mirror her so they could do the same.
"Do you really think that you and Kurt will get in, Rachel? Really?" Quinn asked. "I'm sure any performing arts school in New York is super competitive. I'd be afraid to try."
"Of course it'll be competitive, because it's the best! But I'll do anything to get in. Rachel Berry will be a Broadway star," she said decisively. "It's my destiny."
Santana snorted, releasing Brittany's hands and crossing one arm over her chest to press it into position with her other hand. "And right now, there are only a few thousand other high school seniors who are saying the same thing to anyone who will listen, filling out their applications and picking out which lame song they're going to audition with. And only a few of them out of the entire country will actually get in. The rest will stay in their boring hometowns, and go to their local community colleges, and dream about re-applying next year."
"Not me," she retorted, to which Santana only rolled her eyes.
"Don't be mean," Brittany said.
"It's not meanness, it's honesty," the Latina girl responded as Mr. Schue walked in and called them all downstage to start.
Brittany rose and brushed the seat of her cheer skirt as she said to Rachel, "When you're a big star up in the sky, don't forget to wave to the people down on the ground. I'll wave back." Rachel just nodded without replying, it was usually the simplest way to respond to the blonde's nonsensical comments.
The first moves they covered were so simple-the grapevine and box step, really Mr. Schue?-that Rachel's attention began to wander. She knew the doubts of her friends weren't unfounded. She wasn't in denial about how competitive her chosen field would be. But her life path led to New York and Broadway, she was sure of it. And it all started with the NYADA mixer tomorrow night. She and Kurt had come up with better choreography for their number in five minutes, than the moves the Glee club was being put through right now. Though come to think of it...would it be better if their performance included more difficult moves? Maybe they should do a different song, something with more of a dance beat?
"Will, we need to talk!" The outburst from the front row brought Rachel out of her musings. The collective Glee Club stopped mid-turn to look for the source of the interruption. Terri Schuester was stomping up the steps and onto the stage, her expression thunderous.
Mr. Schue asked her in a furious stage whisper, "Terri, can't this wait? I'm in rehearsal, we'll talk when I get home tonight." But the Glee Club, well acquainted with the tirades of their teacher's wife, was already breaking up into little groups to talk till the current marital crisis blew over. Rachel seized her chance to go over to Kurt, who was talking to Mercedes about hats, from the look of the gestures both of them were making around their heads.
"Kurt, we should talk," she said immediately, ignoring the fact that she was being rude and interrupting their conversation. This was more important. "I think we should change our song for tomorrow night, and pick something that we can put some real dance moves to."
"Excuse me, Miss Thang, but we were having a discussion," Mercedes informed her.
"Hold on," Kurt said to her. "Indulge us for a moment, please, and we'll get back to our critique of the fashions at the royal wedding." He turned to Rachel. "Why do you want to change it? We picked something from the Wizard of Oz because Wicked is our musical, the first one we sang a song from on a Broadway stage. But singing something from Wicked would be too obvious and trendy, so...Wizard of Oz." He raised his eyebrows, indicating with a look that the logic should be obvious.
"Yes, and I agree with that reasoning, but Kurt! NYADA trains triple threat performers. We need to show singing, acting, AND dancing. We need to change it."
"Assuming I agree with you," he spoke with exaggerated patience, "what do you suggest we change it to?"
"I don't know...something from one of the older musicals, but it needs to be something for at least two people, and we need to dance to it."
"Hold on, hold on..." Mercedes broke in. "You guys seriously don't see the obvious answer here?" They both looked at her blankly, waiting. "You're already thinking Wicked, Wizard of Oz, you need something not trendy and has a dance beat."
"Well, don't keep us in suspense," from Kurt.
"Guys...The Wiz! Ease on Down the Road!"
They stared at her, before Rachel said it. "Do we need to point out the obvious? The Wiz is the black version of The Wizard of Oz, we'd never be cast in that."
"But that's why it's perfect! No one would ever expect the skinny white boy and loudmouth Jewish girl to do it! In The Wiz, they're headed toward New York, not the Emerald City, which is another reason it's a better fit for you two. And you said you wanted a dance beat," Mercedes finished, crossing her arms with an air of finality. They all looked back and forth at each other, the hubbub of the Glee Club's conversation around them punctuated by the not-so-quiet whispers of the Schuesters arguing on stage left.
"I'm not that loud mouthed," Rachel said finally, defensive. Her friends laughed outright at that, not even trying to hold back. She pouted. She really wasn't that bad.
"What do you think?" Kurt asked her when he stopped chortling. "The Wiz?"
"It might work," she conceded. "It would be unexpected, she's right about that."
"No, Will!" Terri Schuester exclaimed loudly, drawing everyone's attention to the couple. Mr. Schue looked their way, embarrassed, and guided his wife into the shadows of the wings.
"Talk about the Wicked Witch of the West," Kurt muttered.
"Yeah, witch with a capital B," Mercedes added.
Rachel had other things on her mind. "C'mon, Kurt-while they're fighting, let's ask Brad to help us choose the right key." She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the piano. They explained what they needed and the accompanist, who always seemed to know every song they asked him for no matter what genre, immediately began playing "Ease on Down the Road" in different keys, letting them vocalise along and find which fit their voices best.
They'd just about decided when a hand brought the cover crashing down on the keys, which fortunately Brad didn't have his fingers on at the time. Terri Schuester glared at them from the other side of the piano.
"You Glee kids think you're so special, you think nothing of taking my husband away from home where he should be, with me. And you think you're going to make a career out of all this foolishness, but you're just going to disappoint yourselves and end up no where," she snarled.
"Hey, what would you know about it?" Santana challenged. Rachel hadn't even seen her walk up with the other two Cheerios. "How high have you ever reached, Miss Linens-and-Things?"
"That's right. I'm living proof that success in high school doesn't mean success after school. So enjoy your cute micro skirt now, because being a cheerleader won't get you anywhere in the real world."
"At least Rachel and Kurt aren't afraid to try," Quinn said quietly to her. "The people who end up being Lima Losers will stay here because they're too afraid to try for more. Is that what happened to you?"
"You listen to me, you MTV Teenage Mom wannabe-" her furious retort was cut off by Mr. Schue, who took her by the arm and began leading her offstage.
"That's enough, Terri," he told his wife, looking apologetically at Quinn. The head cheerleader pressed her lips together tightly as Brittany gave her a hug.
"Mike, Brittany, take over the rehearsal please," Mr. Schue called as he escorted his still-ranting wife through the auditorium toward the exit. There was a general grumbling as the Glee Club moved back into their places, with their two best dancers at the front now.
"Thanks, Santana, Quinn," Rachel said to them both as their temporary teachers conferred between themselves.
"Just because I stood up for you doesn't mean I don't agree with Real Housewife out there," Santana shrugged.
"Then why'd you say anything?" Kurt asked from the Cheerios' other side.
"Just because we insult each other, doesn't mean I'm going to stand by and let some outsider do it. Takes all the sting out of my insults if someone else beats me to it." Santana tightened her ponytail as she spoke and bent to check her laces, indicating that she considered the conversation over.
Mike announced they would work on a pas de bourree, pivot turn combination with arm movements. Again, this was easy for Rachel, who paid just enough attention to know when they were being asked to perform the move yet again for those who didn't get it right the first time, unlike her. She felt badly for Mr. Schue, who was probably still fighting with his high-maintenance wife outside. The woman was so miserable in her pathetic little life that she even took it out on high school students. Not me, Rachel decided. She wasn't going to be a Lima Loser, stuck here forever. She'd find her own Yellow Brick Road to New York City, even if she had to walk all the way there.
She was so focused on her thoughts as she pivoted again, that she didn't realize how close she'd danced to Finn. She spun left-the correct way-as he spun right. She barely had time to see his large hand come up toward her face before the impact.
"Ow! Finn!" She pressed a hand to her abused nose, her eyes watering in pain.
"Crap! Sorry, Rachel-are you okay? Here, let me see, is it broken?" Her boyfriend kept babbling apologies as he tried to pry her fingers away from her face.
"I'm fine," she snapped, pushing him away. "It's not even bleeding, but that hurt, Finn! Try to spin the right way next time!"
"Sorry, I'm sorry. You know I suck at this!"
She probed the bridge of her nose gingerly. She really didn't think it was broken, but really. It was bad enough that she was wasting her time with this instead of focusing on her NYADA audition, did she have to get physically assaulted too?
"Are you okay to continue, Rachel?" Mike asked.
"No, I'm not," she said, making up her mind.
"But you said it wasn't broken," Finn protested.
"I'm not okay with wasting my time on this dance rehearsal which I don't need, because I can learn any choreography we've ever done in five minutes!" She glared at all of them. "The rest of you can stay here and see if you learn to spin in the right direction at the right time, I'm done. Let me know when you've caught up to me, but I'm leaving." She pushed her way through the Glee members and down the stage steps.
"Rachel!" Finn called after her, and then she heard Santana say, "Oh let her storm out. She hasn't done it for at least a month, she obviously needs to work it out of her system."
Rachel continued out of the auditorium and through the double exit doors into the McKinley courtyard, fuming the whole way. It wasn't fair that she was stuck here, in this nothing town where her talent was too big and opportunities were so far away. It would all be different when she was in New York. She just had to get there.
"Hey, Hobbit!" a male voice taunted her as she crossed the courtyard. She turned toward the voice, which was a mistake. She only caught a glimpse of a red varsity jacket before reflexively closing her eyes, an instant before the slushie hit her face. She jerked back from the onslaught of crushed ice, lost her balance, and fell backward. The last thing she was aware of was the thud as her head hit the cement.
Awareness was slow to come back. There seemed to be voices murmuring nearby, but she couldn't make out what the voices were saying. She thought she felt a breeze...was she outside? Had she been outside before? Hold on...before what? Her eyes opened suddenly, as she realized she couldn't remember where she'd been just a few minutes ago. Bright sunlight assaulted her eyes and she had to shut them again, then cracked them open just slightly, letting herself adjust. Finally getting her eyes completely open after a moment, she managed to sit up and look around, only to find herself with a lapful of wiggly dog.
"Where did you come from?" she asked him, as he stood on his hind legs to lick her face. She laughed, pushing him down gently to prevent more doggy kisses directly on her mouth, and looked for a tag on his collar. There was a bone-shaped one, engraved with TOTO but no phone number or any other information. She rubbed his ears and looked around, trying again to get her bearings.
She was sitting on a paved road made with golden bricks, which seemed familiar somehow. The road led off behind her and through a closed gate, she discovered when she turned to look, but came to a decreasing spiral that ended exactly where she sat, in the middle of what seemed to be some sort of enclosed courtyard. There was something about all of this that seemed familiar, but at the same time, she couldn't help the feeling that she'd just woken up from a nap in a new, strange place. Thinking that she'd like to meet whatever happened next on her feet, she started to get up and then stopped, staring down at herself. She was wearing a blue and white gingham dress, and on her feet were sparkling ruby slippers. Her hair was in twin pigtails, curling gently down both shoulders. She certainly didn't remember putting on these clothes or styling her hair this way, but she couldn't seem to remember much of anything before waking up here.
She got up, finally, deciding that there were better things to worry about than an unexplained costume change, and looked around. The courtyard seemed to be empty, but she had that disconcerting feeling of being watched.
"Hello?" she called. "Is anyone there?"
Toto barked once, looking up into the sky. Following his gaze, she saw a large bubble floating over the fence toward her, and inside the bubble stood a woman in an extravagant white dress. She watched, astounded, as the bubble landed directly in front of her, and the woman inside reached out to lightly tap her enclosure with one fingernail. The sphere burst, and Rachel closed her eyes reflexively to avoid the resulting spray from the popping of such a large bubble. When she cautiously opened them again, the woman stood in front of her rubbing the bubble's spray into her hands. A woman in a big poofy dress who traveled by bubble seemed to make some kind of strange sense to Rachel, but she couldn't imagine why she was rubbing the bubble into her skin.
"It's a sanitizing bubble," the ginger haired woman explained, noticing Rachel's look. "As long as I stay inside there, I can avoid all germs and contaminants. I rarely come out of it, but I made an exception for you."
To this Rachel could only nod, devoid of speech for the moment.
"I'm Emma, the Good Witch of the North." She smiled a welcome.
"Rachel Barbra Berry," she replied, and curtsied. "I didn't know there were pretty witches."
"There aren't many of us, but we do exist!" she answered brightly. "Well, Rachel Barbra Berry, why are you here?"
"I'm...not sure," Rachel stammered. "Can you tell me, where am I?"
"You're in Oz, of course."
"Oz...what a strange name," she mused. "Well, I just woke up here, and I'm not quite sure of where 'here' is, though it does seem familiar, and I'm also not sure how I got into these clothes. I don't know where this dog came from, though he seems to think he's mine." The small terrier sat at her feet and whined softly. "And I don't think I belong here, no matter how much it seems like I've been here before."
"Hmmm...I'm not sure I have a pamphlet for that situation." Emma opened a file folder-where had that come from-and browsed through the pages inside. "I do have one about that dream where you're naked in front of a crowd, that's very common. But not waking up in different clothes, hmm. And you don't know how you got here?" Rachel shook her head. "Well, do you know where you want to go?"
"Yes!" Rachel exclaimed, thrilled to realize she did know the answer to that question. She hadn't thought about it until she was asked, but- "I want to go to New York, and Broadway. I'm going to be a huge Broadway star."
"Ahh, if that's your goal, then you need to see the Wizard."
"Wizard? Who's that?"
"THE Wizard," Emma repeated as if that explained everything, "the one and only, can grant any kind of wish, but specializes in Broadway dreams."
"That's wonderful!" This seemed almost too good to be true. "So where is this Wizard?" she asked, looking around the courtyard.
"Oh, you won't find The Wizard here," Emma laughed. "You have to go to New York City. And you want to go there anyway, so this is convenient, right? The Wizard holds court on the stage of the Gershwin Theatre."
"Right, of course." So many things seemed to make sense once Emma said them out loud. "Can you tell me the way to New York City?"
"That's the easiest question of all to answer...just follow the Yellow Brick Road." Emma gestured expansively to the golden path that disappeared through the gate.
"Follow the Yellow Brick Road, follow the Yellow Brick Road," Rachel chanted to herself as she stepped through the gate with Emma and it closed behind them. And then she stopped in wonder. In comparison to the drab concrete courtyard she'd just left, the world outside the gates was rolling green fields and blue skies, as far as she could see. The Yellow Brick Road wound its way toward the horizon, disappearing over a hill or around a curve but always reappearing.
"Oz is beautiful," she whispered to the Good Witch. Something about the view inspired reverence in her.
"Yes, it is. But it has its dangers too. There are plenty of places to get dirty or pick up germs, which is why I stay in my sanitizing bubble most of the time. You'll want to avoid the poppy fields, if you lie down in them you'll go to sleep and have dreams that are quite disturbing, and never wake up." She waited, seeming to need some reaction, so Rachel nodded her understanding. Like she'd really stop to nap in a field of flowers when her Broadway dream was waiting in New York. "And most of all, you'll want to watch out for-"
"Well, what have we here?" a new voice intruded. The question was followed by what Rachel could only describe as a cackle. Which she found was appropriate when she turned to find the owner of the voice, for she was the very definition of a witch. Green skin, pointed black hat, a broom, and even a witch's familiar in the form of a fat tabby cat. Weren't witches' familiars supposed to be black cats? The random thought drifted through her mind before it hit her that she was face-to-face with an honest-to-goodness witch, and one with an angry expression on her face to boot. She squeaked in fright (how embarrassing) and stepped back, wondering frantically how to defend herself. She was Rachel Berry, future Broadway star, not Rachel Berry, witch hunter.
Toto pressed against her leg, growling softly at the cat, who hissed and arched his back.
Emma stepped in front of her. "She's the one I was trying to warn you about," she said without taking her eyes off her adversary. "Leave now Terri," she said to the green-skinned woman. "You don't have to harass this girl."
"Oh, but I do...I get so few chances for entertainment!" She stepped closer, leaning around Emma to smirk at Rachel. "What's this one after? What makes her think she's so special? What's she going to ask the Wizard for?"
"Leave, or you'll regret it. Last warning."
The witch only laughed, and took another step closer. Before Rachel knew what was happening, Emma raised her hand up to the witch's face and the green skinned woman screamed, covering her face and backing away quickly.
"This isn't over! You can't protect her forever, and I'll see to it that she never makes it to The Wizard!" With that, the witch disappeared in a cloud of green smoke, leaving her cat blinking for a moment before it too disappeared with a protesting yowl.
Rachel coughed from the residual vapor, which smelled suspiciously of rotten eggs. "Who was that? And how did you make her go away?"
"That," Emma said primly as she smoothed down her bodice, "was Terri the Terrible, the Wicked Witch of the West. She's nothing more than a sad, frustrated nobody whose dreams never came true. So she can't bear to see anyone else pursue their dreams."
"What would she have done to me?"
"Oh, she can't really hurt you, not unless you let her. Her only real power is in intimidation and being negative. But negative words, even thoughts, can be enough to keep some people from pursuing their goals and dreams. Don't be one of those."
Rachel nodded seriously. If that was all the witch was about, she was sure she could stand against her. "How did you scare her off, though?"
"Oh, I always carry extra sanitizer with me." Emma showed her the small tube in her hand with a spray nozzle on one end. "I don't know why exactly, but she's terrified of all cleansers and sanitizers. It's like she's deathly allergic to it. I discovered it by accident when she burst my sanitizing bubble, and some of it sprayed on her. She shrieked and disappeared, and ever since then I've carried extra sanitizer." She pressed it into Rachel's hand. "Here, you take this. But be careful-that one's almost empty and it probably won't be enough to scare her off more than once." She stepped back, and her large bubble reappeared around her. "Good luck, Rachel Barbra Berry."
Rachel watched Emma float up and drift off on the breeze, wondering if this day could get any more surreal. When the bubble had disappeared, she turned to regard the Yellow Brick Road.
"Well, Toto-I don't know how far it is to New York City, so we'd better get started." She stepped out in her ruby slippers, her new companion trotting by her side.
The terrain continued to be beautiful, but walking for hours on one path grew tedious after a while and Rachel found she had time to think. She was still somewhat nervous about her unknown circumstances, but at least she was headed toward New York. She wasn't quite sure why she felt so strongly that New York was where she needed to be, but the conviction was there. She knew that she could sing, and dance, and that performing was all she'd ever really wanted to do with her life. There was also a nagging feeling that wherever she'd come from (she still couldn't remember, which was rather disconcerting) her talent and ambition hadn't been sufficiently recognized and nurtured. But she was on her way now, and everything would be different in New York. She wished she knew how far it was, but at least she wouldn't get lost. The Yellow Brick Road led in one direction only...until hours later, when she came to a point where it didn't.
"Well this is certainly inconvenient, Toto." She contemplated the golden path that now split off in three different directions. "That pretty witch didn't say anything about which way to go when the Yellow Brick Road did this. Rather negligent of her to make it sound as if the road only led one way." She peered down the road in each direction, hoping to find a clue, but there was nothing. "And we haven't seen a soul since Emma floated away. I wish there were someone we could ask for directions."
"I'm someone," a female voice announced from the cornfield to her right, startling her. "At least, I think I'm someone."
Rachel looked around, but didn't see anyone. Just cornfields, the Yellow Brick Road, and a scarecrow hanging high on a pole.
"Did you hear someone, Toto?" she asked him. Her small dog looked up at her, and barked once. He ran over to the edge of the cornfield with the scarecrow in it, and barked several times. So she wasn't imagining it. She approached the cornfield herself. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
"I'm there," the same voice replied. "Unless I'm here."
"She has the most curious way of talking," Rachel muttered to herself, walking around the scarecrow to look between the rows. She raised her voice. "Excuse me, but where are you?"
"I don't know. I can't see you."
Rachel spun quickly around, but saw no one. Just the scarecrow, its back to her now, swaying slightly in the breeze. She walked around it again.
"There you are. And there's me."
She gazed up in wonder at the scarecrow above her. Its face appeared to be that of a girl about her own age, with twin braids down her shoulders plaited from yellow straw. She looked familiar somehow. The wide eyes regarded her with an open curiosity, then blinked.
With a start, Rachel realized she was staring. "Begging your pardon," she said, dropping into a curtsy. "I'm Rachel. I didn't mean to stare, but I've never seen a female scarecrow before. Or one that talks."
"You haven't?" the Scarecrow asked, and her burlap face creased into a smile.
"Definitely not. I'd remember having a conversation with a scarecrow. Is everything in Oz this amazing?"
"I don't know. I've only seen these cornfields, and I don't really know anything else."
"You've never seen anything but these cornfields?" Rachel asked. The scarecrow's head bobbed up and down, bits of straw drifting to the ground. "You've been here your entire life? How dreadfully boring for you. Do you want to see other places?"
"Do I? I don't know." Her gloved hand came up to scratch at her head through her floppy hat. "What other places are there to see?"
"Well, I'm going to New York City, to see if The Wizard can make me a Broadway star. New York is a wondrous place. Would you like to come with me?"
The scarecrow's painted-on brows knit together for a moment. "Do you think this Wizard has any brains?" she asked hopefully.
"From what I've been told about how wonderful he is, I hope he has brains."
"I'm sure he has brains of his own, everyone does, except me. But do you think he has brains to share? I could really use one, because until I have a brain I can't make up my mind about things like whether to go to New York City with you, because I don't have a mind to make up."
"No brain?" That seemed most unusual, especially for someone who could talk. But the scarecrow nodded. "Tell you what...I'll decide for you, just for now. You're coming to New York City with me, and you'll ask The Wizard for a brain!" She beamed, pleased with her solution.
"That sounds wonderful! Let's go!" Her legs began a walking motion before she looked down. "Oh. I forgot that I'm hanging up here. Why do feet need to touch the ground to walk?"
It took a few minutes, but together they figured out how the scarecrow had been mounted on the pole and with the turn of a large nail, she came sliding down. She landed in a heap amidst the dirt and bits of corn husks, her limbs sprawled in every direction. To Rachel's amazement, she straightened gracefully with a roll of her body, finally stilling with her head up and looking around.
"So this is what the world looks like!" She regarded the rows of corn. "Not much to see, is there?" She turned in a slow circle to her right. "Maybe if I look the other way." She turned again, this time to her left, and stopped again with a puzzled look. Rachel was starting to think that puzzled look was her normal facial expression.
"You'll see more if you step out of the cornfield," she suggested. She took the scarecrow's hand, trying to lead her out of the rows of crops, but had only taken a couple of steps when the scarecrow stumbled. She rolled twice down the mild slope at the edge of the field, and stood again with no break in her fluid forward motion till she stood with feet firmly planted (though pointing in different directions) on the Yellow Brick Road. She had very good turnout, Rachel noticed as she admired the scarecrow's perfect second position.
"That helped!" she declared happily. "So this is what the world looks like!"
Rachel looped an arm through hers. "Which way shall we go? I was trying to decide when I met you."
Toto was already trotting off. "Your dog seems to think that's the right way," the scarecrow said, already following and forcing Rachel to follow. She reasoned that she didn't know which road led to New York City, and following Toto was as good a plan as any. Perhaps he was smelling his way.
"His name is Toto," she mentioned as they strolled along.
"Does he have double the amount of toes?" her companion asked.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Well, you named him Toe twice. Does he have double toes?"
"No, it's just a name."
"Why not Tutu? Then he could wear a tutu and be my dance partner," the scarecrow said dreamily.
"I don't think Toto dances," Rachel said. The scarecrow looked like she was going to say something else, but Rachel cut her off, almost afraid to hear what she'd say next. "Do you have a name? I'd feel awful calling you 'Scarecrow' all the way to New York."
She seemed to think about that. "I don't think so."
"Would you like to pick a name for yourself?" Rachel asked.
"I don't think I have the brains for that," she replied sadly. "Would YOU like to name me?" she asked brightly.
"I'd be honored," Rachel smiled. "Let me think..." She stopped the scarecrow, looking at her intently. "From the moment I saw you, I knew you reminded me of someone." She studied her open, trusting face. "I've got it! When I was little, I had a doll with blond braids like yours, and rosy cheeks and blue eyes. Her name was Brittany. Would you like to be called Brittany?"
She nodded emphatically, her straw neck rustling with the movement. "Shall we continue?" she asked, holding out her arm for Rachel to loop her own through. "Lead the way, Tutu!" she called to the small dog who'd stopped to sniff at something in the bushes, and stepped forward.
Rachel stopped, pulling on the scarecrow's arm to stop her as well. "I'm sorry, Brittany. I gave you your name, and you like it, don't you?" She waited for the nod. "Toto likes his name too, and if you're going to travel with us, I insist that you call Toto by his correct name."
"But he'd look too too cute in a tutu," Brittany said wistfully.
"His name is Toto," Rachel said emphatically before striding over to retrieve her dog. "Toto, what are you sniffing at? We need to keep moving if we want to get to New York!"
The small terrier sat down in the bushes and looked up at her, woofing softly. He put out a paw and scratched at something, and whatever it was caused a jarring screeching sound. Rachel could see something shiny in the undergrowth.
"What was that?" Brittany asked, coming closer. She leaned over and parted the leaves, and they gazed in wonder at a shiny, metallic...person. Its feet were half buried in the grass, and an axe was held in one motionless hand. Its face looked angry. "Is it a statue?" she asked.
"Well, who would put a statue out here in the bushes?" Rachel asked. "I wonder what it's made of." She reached forward to rap her knuckles against the figure, then jumped back as a muffled, high pitched noise was heard. "Did you make that noise?" she asked Brittany. The scarecrow's braids scratched against her shirt as she shook her head, her eyes wide and frightened against the dirty brown of her burlap face.
"I think he made the noise." She pointed hesitantly at the shiny figure.
"Statues don't talk, Brittany!" Rachel informed her.
"Neither do scarecrows."
"True. Things are different here." She leaned forward and knocked again on the figure's chest, and an echo was heard along with the same high muffled squeal. Brittany walked forward, seemingly over her alarm, till she was nose to nose with the shiny figure. She stared intently for a moment, making Rachel wonder once again what was going through that brainless head of hers.
"She's a she," Brittany announced confidently. "And she needs us to un-statue her."
"What does that even mean?" Rachel asked.
"Her arms and legs and everything else have gone all stiff. She can't move. I don't know much, but I do remember seeing someone in my cornfield use something they called an oil can on a shiny part that got frozen."
"Assuming you're right," and Rachel hoped her tone conveyed how unlikely Brittany's theory was, "how are we supposed to find an oil can out here?"
The straw girl looked off into the middle distance. "We need one, so it should be around somewhere."
Rachel was just about to point out the illogic of that statement when Toto barked, and scratched again at the feet of the tin man-or woman, if Brittany was to be believed. Rachel looked more closely where Toto was pawing and saw, in the grass next to the statue's foot, an oil can.
"There is one here! You were right!" She picked it up. Maybe things like this just happened in Oz. The things that you needed just appeared. "Which part should we oil first?"
"Her mouth," Brittany responded. "She has something to say."
So Rachel squeezed the can to apply a generous squirt of the thick liquid to the corners of the statue's mouth, and in spite of being warned, was still surprised to see the mouth start to move. The jaw worked up, down, and side to side, before opening to say, "Get that mongrel off my feet! If he thinks he's going to use me for a pee post, I'll go after him with my axe!"
"Well that's gratitude for you!" Rachel dropped the can. "See if I give you any more oil. You can stay frozen for all I care!" She spun around to stomp away through the undergrowth, calling Toto.
"Wait!" Brittany's voice stopped her. She stepped up nose to nose with the tin woman again. "You should be nicer. Rachel was just trying to help you." She pointed to Rachel, as if she could be talking about anyone else. "That's Rachel. She's bossy but she's nice." (Rachel harrumphed at that.) "And her dog is Tutu. He wasn't going to pee on you. I wouldn't let him. I know if you get peed on, you rust and your parts start falling off. And then your legs and arms would just be lying on the ground, and birds would steal straw from me and make their nests inside your empty metal limbs, and then when all the baby birds hatch you'd get pooped on too. But that's not going to happen, because I won't let Tutu pee on you."
"His name is Toto!"
"Tutu, Toto, either way it's a stupid name," the metallic woman snapped. "Why are we talking about the dog? Are either of you going to un-freeze me?"
"No. We're going to leave you stuck there, which is no more than you deserve for being so foul. Come on, Brittany!" Rachel scooped up Toto and started marching away.
"I'm not going to leave her!" Brittany protested. "That wouldn't be nice." She picked up the can and proceeded to dribble oil on all joints. Rachel fumed as she waited. She considered going on anyway, but the truth was that it was frightening to be all alone here, and Brittany was someone to talk to at least. With several squeaks and creaks, the former statue lifted her feet out of the grass and stumbled clumsily forward. After several stiff steps, she turned by slow awkward degrees to face Brittany.
"Thank you." It looked as though she moved her mouth only with difficulty.
The scarecrow's face creased into a wide grin. "You're welcome. Would you like a little more oil on your mouth?" More squeaks accompanied the nod. Brittany applied more, asking, "What's your name?"
"Santana." Her very voice sounded rusty, as if she hadn't spoken for a long time. Rachel found herself automatically thinking of vocal exercises that might help her voice warm up.
"That's pretty. And you're pretty." Brittany leaned in, peering at herself in her chest. "I like the way you're all shiny, I can see myself in you."
Rachel cautiously came closer again, keeping an eye on the axe held by the metal woman. "Santana, did you say? How did you come to be in the woods, and frozen like that?"
Santana turned toward Rachel with a look of contempt. "I don't owe you my life story just because Straw Girl here squirted some oil on me."
"Brittany," the scarecrow said softly.
"What?"
"My name is Brittany. She named me." She pointed at Rachel again.
Santana's expression softened just slightly. "Your name fits you. Looks like the Munchkin wannabe did something right."
"I'm not that short!" Rachel exclaimed indignantly. "And you're mean! No wonder you stayed frozen in the woods long enough for your feet to get stuck in the ground, I'm sure no one missed you!"
She raised a hand to her chest and held it there. "Oh, I'm heartbroken by your amateur insults," she replied mockingly. "Oh wait-no I'm not, because I don't have a heart to break!"
"No heart?" Brittany asked. Santana rapped sharply on herself, and the hollow sound echoed through her metal frame. "That's so sad. I don't have a brain."
"Which is why you agreed to let me decide things for you, till The Wizard can give you one," Rachel said briskly. "And right now, I'm deciding that we should be on our way." She turned to leave.
"Wait!" Brittany looked at Santana. "We're going to New York City so that The Wizard can help Rachel become a star, and I can get a brain. If you come with us, maybe he can give you a heart."
"Brittany! I don't want her with us! She's awful!" Rachel hissed.
"You'd be awful too if you didn't have a heart," Brittany defended their new acquaintance. "The Wizard can fix her, and then she'll be nice. Won't you?" she asked Santana.
"Hold on, hold on...who says I want to be nice? Maybe I like being like this."
"See? She doesn't even want to change," Rachel exclaimed.
"I don't believe you," Brittany told Santana, more seriously than usual for her. "I think someone hurt you and you tried to convince yourself that you didn't feel anything, but it didn't work. And when you tried to stop your emotions, you...you just stopped. Until you got stuck here."
Both the other young women stared at her. Rachel was the first to find her voice. "That's ridiculous, Brittany. I think you should let me keep on thinking for you."
"I don't think she needs someone else to think for her at all," Santana said, speaking to Rachel but looking at the scarecrow. "I think she's smarter without a brain, than most people are with one. And if Brittany's going to see this Wizard, then I want to go too. I don't know if he can give me a heart, but I have nothing to lose by trying."
Rachel realized that Santana looked younger now that she wasn't yelling or insulting anyone. She appeared to be about the same age as herself and Brittany, though admittedly it was difficult to judge the age of a young woman made of straw or tin.
Brittany grinned wide and looped her straw arm through Santana's metal one. "Then let's go!"
"Wait," Rachel interrupted them. "If you're going to come with us, we need to set some ground rules. You can't threaten Toto or anyone else with your axe. And you have to try to be nice. You can't be mean to us all the way to New York City."
Santana rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll withold my more biting comments on your height, your dress, and your less-than-perfect manners. Just keep the mutt away from me."
"Toto is not a mutt!" Rachel retaliated. "He's a purebred Cairn Terrier!" She wasn't even sure how she knew that, but she was certain of her dog's breed all the same.
"Whatever, just keep him away from me." She plucked her oil can out of Brittany's hand, hanging it on a hook at her waist. "Shall we?"
They stepped out on the Yellow Brick Road, Brittany weaving from side to side in that loose-limbed way of hers, Santana still lifting each foot stiffly but moving a bit easier the longer they walked. Rachel walked along behind them, carrying Toto and wondering how her day had turned into this.
A few hours passed by uneventfully on the Yellow Brick Road. Rachel got bored walking in the back by herself and caught up to the other two so she could walk beside them. She told them all about her future as a Broadway star, and how it was going to be so much better than where she came from, where no one really appreciated her. Though she still couldn't remember details, she just knew that where she'd come from hadn't been the best place for her.
She'd been talking for a while and the scenery had changed from crop fields to a forest when Santana wrenched her hand free from Brittany's grasp and rounded on her. "Enough! I can't listen to you talk about yourself anymore. I'd rather be back in the bushes, imitating a statue again."
"Well, it's not as if your life has been so amazing."
"I wasn't always frozen like you found me, you know. I had a life before that. Not as cushy as yours though. You probably ran away from a great place where people loved you, and supported you, and always told you you were right."
"What would you know about my life?"
"Oh, I know your type, Poor Little Rich Girl. You've been so spoiled and doted on your entire life, that the first time things don't go your way, you're all woe-is-me, no-one-understands-me-"
"But they didn't! No one ever paid attention to me, no one ever appreciated my talent or that I was too good to be there. I'm glad to be here. I'd rather be headed toward New York, and Broadway, than going back where I came from!"
"You know what I think? I think you're a spoiled brat who never realized how good she had it!" Santana spat, stepping into Rachel's space.
"Stop yelling in my face, you don't know what I've coped with!"
Brittany tried to step between them. "Don't fight. We should all be friends."
"Oh no, I never said I wanted to be friends with-" Rachel stopped with a yelp as a roar drowned out her voice. Instinctively, all three girls turned back to back, forming a three sided circle as they watched the forest warily. It was only now, as she paused to truly scrutinize their surroundings, that she realized how dark it had gotten. Toto crowded in by her ankles, trying to wedge himself into the middle of their little group. "Do-" Her voice came out in a squeak. She tried again. "Do you think there are dangerous creatures in these woods?
"Probably lions," Brittany whispered.
"L-l-lions?"
"And tigers," Santana added.
"Maybe bears?" Rachel asked.
"Maybe."
They stayed there, quivering against each other and trying to look in every direction at once, for several moments. Finally Santana spoke.
"We can't just stand here like this, waiting for whatever animals are out there to come get us. I think we should link arms so we stay close together, and walk out of here as quickly as we can." Rachel looked over her shoulder at Brittany and saw from her nod that she agreed with this plan. Slowly, they unpeeled themselves and linked arms, with Rachel taking one outside edge so she could hold Toto with her other arm. Santana took the other outside edge, saying she was the only one with a weapon. "And I'm willing to use it."
"Which one are you most afraid of?" Rachel whispered. "I think the lion."
"Tiger," Santana admitted.
"Bear," Brittany said softly.
"Lions."
"And tigers."
"And bears! Oh my!"
Admitting their fears out loud seemed to help. They began striding forward faster, more confidently, raising their voices in unison now.
"Lions and tigers and bears!" they said a little louder. "Lions and tigers and bears, lions and tigers and bears!" they exclaimed, and paused for breath.
"Apples and melons and pears!" Brittany shouted.
The other two stopped, pulling the middle girl to a halt with them, staring at her in confusion. She shrugged. "It just seemed to fit."
"But what does it-" Rachel shrieked as a huge, furry, beast launched itself at her from the shadows. She flung herself backward, bringing Brittany down with her by her grip on the scarecrow's arm, and losing her hold on Toto. She heard his indignant yip but couldn't spare a moment to see where he'd landed. She found herself flat on her back, looking up into the face of the hairy monster looming over her, and wondering hazily why everyone she'd met on the Yellow Brick Road had the face of a teenage girl.
"ROAR!" her assailant yelled in her face. Did she actually just say 'roar'? Rachel couldn't help it, she started laughing hysterically at the absurdity of it all, till a large paw gripped her face, claws digging ever-so-slightly into her flesh. The one pressed against the side of her nose felt like it was pressing deeper than the others, about to break the skin.
"Not my nose, not my nose..." she whimpered, for the first time trying to squirm away.
"I'll bite your nose off!" The lioness-it was a lioness, she realized suddenly-warned before pinning both her hands and leaning down with its mouth opening.
Rachel shrieked again, closing her eyes to avoid watching her own face being eaten off, when she felt the lioness freeze. She cracked her eyes open fearfully, to see an axe pressed against her captor's throat. The lioness jerked her head up to avoid the sharp edge, but the weapon just followed her, staying pressed against her fur.
"As much as I've wanted to claw her face off several times in our brief acquaintance," came Santana's voice from behind the lion, "I won't just stand here and watch while you do it. Back off...NOW."
The grip on her wrists loosened, and Rachel was surprised to see the lioness' fierce expression slowly crumple in on itself, her lower lip trembling, and her eyes blinking furiously as if to hold back tears.
"Don't hurt me," she whimpered. "Don't, don't..."
"Then get off her," came the command.
Her weight disappeared off Rachel suddenly as she reared back and rolled away from the blade, all in one smooth motion. Rachel sat up shakily, starting to hyperventilate now that the immediate threat was over, feeling light-headed. She gripped her gingham-clad knees, lowering her head between them. She tried to take deep breaths. There was a creaking sound and she raised her head enough to see metal legs walk by, as Santana moved to stand guard over the lion who was curled on her side, sniffling. Rachel lowered her head again.
"I took care of Tutu for you," Brittany's voice came from next to her. "I think he was scared when he flew, but he's not hurt. He landed in some nice soft bushes."
Rachel reached out for her pet, holding him against her and immediately felt better. "Oh, Toto, I'm so sorry I dropped you like that. I didn't mean to." She buried her face in his fur, breathing his doggy scent and letting her tense muscles relax. "Thank you for taking care of him," she said as Toto wiggled free of her grip enough to brace his paws on her chest and lick her face.
Brittany rustled as she nodded acknowledgement, then rolled upright in that fluid, boneless way of hers before walking over to where Santana still stood with axe at the ready. She knelt down by the shivering lion, putting a hand on her back.
"Brittany! She could bite your face off!" the tin girl cautioned.
"She won't," Brittany shook her head. "She's more scared than we are."
"Well she almost bit MY face off!" Rachel retorted from her spot on the ground. Feeling steadier now, she managed to get to her feet and step over to the little group, putting Toto down. It was true that the lion didn't look so fearsome now, on the ground with her paws over her face, but Rachel wasn't going to be mollified by a few whimpers. Brittany was stroking the lion's back and murmuring to her softly. "What do you think you were doing, jumping out at me like that?" Rachel demanded. "You nearly scared the wits out of me!"
The lion mumbled something, too indistinct to hear.
"Oh for crying out loud," Santana snapped. "Stop sniveling and sit up, get your ugly paws off your face so we can hear you." She'd lowered her axe, apparently deciding that the pitiful animal in front of them wasn't so dangerous after all.
Brittany reached around the lion for the paw she laid half on top of, showing no fear of putting herself close to sharp teeth. She tugged on both hands gently, helping the lion sit up. The large feline still huddled her knees, looking down.
"I-I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice still hitching. "I don't really like scaring people. But I was trying to prove that I'm brave. Lions are supposed to be brave, but I'm not. I'm the most cowardly lion you'll ever meet."
Santana snorted. "No offense, but jumping out at an unarmed teenage girl doesn't really prove anything. You could have picked a better way to prove yourself."
"But I'm too cowardly for anything else," the lion whispered, finally looking up at them. Now that she was able to look at her face without being terrified, Rachel saw that she was really quite pretty, with striking green eyes. "If only I knew how to get some courage, I could be Queen of the Beasts like I'm supposed to be. I'd be top of the food chain!" she finished defiantly, then ruined the effect with a shuddering breath.
"I thought it was King of Beasts?" Brittany questioned.
"Lions are the kings of beasts, and that means lionesses are the queens," she replied firmly. "I need to find my lion king, and then I'll be queen. But no lion will want me if I'm not the top lioness, so I have to prove my courage. It's just..." Her jaw quivered. "I don't have any courage!" She dropped her face into her paws again, her furry shoulders shaking.
Brittany rubbed her back soothingly. "She should come with us," she said, looking up at the other two. "Maybe The Wizard can give her some courage."
"Brittany! Are you going to invite every stray we encounter to come along with us?" Rachel exclaimed. This was really going too far. She needed to get to New York City and see The Wizard, and all these delays were pointless.
"Why not? You invited me."
"Little Miss Control Freak is only upset because it's not her idea," Santana said carelessly. "I don't really care if the scaredy-cat wants to come with us, but we should get a move on before it gets any darker."
Now that she looked around, Rachel realized that it was very gloomy in the woods. The Yellow Brick Road was still visible enough, but it was difficult to see even a few feet into the trees on either side of the bright path.
"I can't stay here after dark!" the lioness wailed suddenly. "I'm afraid of the dark!"
"Then let's go," Brittany said brightly. "We can't stop it from getting dark, but at least we'll be together." She grasped the lioness' front paws and pulled her to her feet. "Do you have a name?"
She sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of a paw. "Quinn." She blinked in a watery way at all of them as they introduced themselves.
"Well, Quinn, do you want to come with us or not? We're going to New York City to see some wizard who supposedly can grant all kinds of wishes. Sounds like some kind of con artist to me, but it's not like I have anywhere else to be, so I'm going."
"The Wizard is not a con artist," Rachel said to Quinn, shooting the tin girl a look at the same time. "He's a very powerful wizard and he's going to make me a star."
"And give me a brain, and Santana a heart, and you can get some courage."
"Do you really think so?" Quinn asked.
"Yes," Rachel said firmly. "Now, much as I hate to admit that Santana is right about something, it's getting darker the longer we stand here talking. So why don't we get out of these woods before we can't see where we're going?"
It was fully dark by the time the trees started to thin around them, giving way to rolling fields of grass and flowers. They had stayed close together through the forest, keeping continual watch for any more threats that might appear, even though Santana pointed out that the last creature that 'threatened' their little group merely got adopted, so why were they all so worried? Still, they all breathed a sigh of relief (along with a full body shudder from Quinn) when they finally cleared the last of the trees.
"I don't know about anyone else, but I'm exhausted," Rachel announced. "I've been walking all day, and these ruby slippers may be attractive but they're not the most practical for long distances."
"Maybe we could stop and rest for the night?" Brittany suggested.
They all agreed, and picked out a patch of grass next to the Yellow Brick Road to lie down, after Rachel checked for poppies nearby. She didn't want to sleep through her chance to see The Wizard. Quinn suggested, with a fearful look around, building a fire to ward off the darkness, but Brittany vetoed that with a terrified look of her own. "Fire's the only thing I'm afraid of. Made of straw," she explained.
"You don't have to worry, Quinn," Santana told her, not as abrasively as usual. "We're all together, and I have an axe. Nothing's going to bother us."
It took them a while, but they eventually settled into positions that were somewhat comfortable for everyone. Rachel was feeling the cold and thought she'd be too chilly to sleep, till Quinn offered to let her sleep next to her and take advantage of her warm fur. Santana couldn't find a good way to rest her head at first. Her tin limbs and limited mobility made it difficult for her to lie down in any sort of relaxed pose, but Brittany said Santana could use her straw-stuffed belly as a pillow. Rachel called to Toto, who'd wandered off to sniff at things, and he trotted back to circle around and curl up by her side. Thus situated, they all quieted, letting the night sounds of Oz lull them to sleep. Rachel had almost drifted off when she opened her eyes to Brittany's voice.
"There are so many stars up there," the scarecrow mused, looking up at the constellations. "When you become a star, Rachel, how will we know which one is you?"
"She'll be the one that's the smallest, but somehow manages to take up the most space and make the most noise," Santana mumbled sleepily.
"Hey," Rachel murmured, too far gone to protest further. "I'm not going to be that kind of star..." And then she slept.
Continued...
Beta services provided by gottriplets, who saved me from several embarrassing mistakes (including a reference to a 'butter' dance move) and my really cool best friend Kristina who's not even a Gleek but looked this over as a favor to me and only charged me a bag of Tootsie Pops. I kept tweaking the story even after they'd done their jobs, so any remaining mistakes are mine.
Summary: When Rachel hits her head following a slushie to the face, she wakes up on a Yellow Brick Road and sets off for New York City to see The Wizard. Along the way, she meets new old friends.
"Ding dong, the witch is dead," Rachel hummed to herself as she entered the auditorium ten minutes before rehearsal was scheduled to start. She couldn't wait for the NYADA mixer tomorrow night, so she and Kurt could perform their song and give notice to the other contenders that they were the ones to worry about.
Everything had changed so quickly in the last few days. They had gone together to see Ms. Pillsbury and ask for advice about performing arts schools in New York City, and their guidance counselor had told them about NYADA and the approaching mixer for applicants, and thus had set them on the road to eventual Broadway stardom. They'd quickly thrown together a fun little number from The Wizard of Oz to intimidate the competition, and had all but devoured the entire academy website for every snippet of information that might prove useful to them when they auditioned. She'd nearly swooned when they found a video from Tibideaux-THE Carmen Tibideaux-announcing her intention of hand-picking a few promising students for her new Master Class. Rachel knew she would give anything to study with Tibideaux, the woman was magical on stage and by all reports was an excellent teacher as well.
She climbed the steps to the stage, ready to begin the show choir dance training that Mr. Schue had dubbed Booty Camp. She didn't need the extra help with her dance moves, of course, but she knew some of her teammates did and she was here for the good of the group. Winning at Nationals this year was part of her plan, so she would have to tolerate these extra practices while the less talented Glee members caught up with her years of dance training.
She detoured to kiss Finn, who was looking morose at the prospect of dance training, then joined Quinn, Santana, and Brittany who sat on the floor in their Cheerios uniforms starting to stretch.
"You guys, Ms. Pillsbury told us about this amazing school in New York with the country's top musical theatre training program. Kurt and I are going to apply together," she told them as she pointed and flexed her toes. Santana and Brittany were already doing straddle stretches, holding each other's hands to alternate pulling each other forward into a deeper stretch, and Quinn gestured for Rachel to mirror her so they could do the same.
"Do you really think that you and Kurt will get in, Rachel? Really?" Quinn asked. "I'm sure any performing arts school in New York is super competitive. I'd be afraid to try."
"Of course it'll be competitive, because it's the best! But I'll do anything to get in. Rachel Berry will be a Broadway star," she said decisively. "It's my destiny."
Santana snorted, releasing Brittany's hands and crossing one arm over her chest to press it into position with her other hand. "And right now, there are only a few thousand other high school seniors who are saying the same thing to anyone who will listen, filling out their applications and picking out which lame song they're going to audition with. And only a few of them out of the entire country will actually get in. The rest will stay in their boring hometowns, and go to their local community colleges, and dream about re-applying next year."
"Not me," she retorted, to which Santana only rolled her eyes.
"Don't be mean," Brittany said.
"It's not meanness, it's honesty," the Latina girl responded as Mr. Schue walked in and called them all downstage to start.
Brittany rose and brushed the seat of her cheer skirt as she said to Rachel, "When you're a big star up in the sky, don't forget to wave to the people down on the ground. I'll wave back." Rachel just nodded without replying, it was usually the simplest way to respond to the blonde's nonsensical comments.
The first moves they covered were so simple-the grapevine and box step, really Mr. Schue?-that Rachel's attention began to wander. She knew the doubts of her friends weren't unfounded. She wasn't in denial about how competitive her chosen field would be. But her life path led to New York and Broadway, she was sure of it. And it all started with the NYADA mixer tomorrow night. She and Kurt had come up with better choreography for their number in five minutes, than the moves the Glee club was being put through right now. Though come to think of it...would it be better if their performance included more difficult moves? Maybe they should do a different song, something with more of a dance beat?
"Will, we need to talk!" The outburst from the front row brought Rachel out of her musings. The collective Glee Club stopped mid-turn to look for the source of the interruption. Terri Schuester was stomping up the steps and onto the stage, her expression thunderous.
Mr. Schue asked her in a furious stage whisper, "Terri, can't this wait? I'm in rehearsal, we'll talk when I get home tonight." But the Glee Club, well acquainted with the tirades of their teacher's wife, was already breaking up into little groups to talk till the current marital crisis blew over. Rachel seized her chance to go over to Kurt, who was talking to Mercedes about hats, from the look of the gestures both of them were making around their heads.
"Kurt, we should talk," she said immediately, ignoring the fact that she was being rude and interrupting their conversation. This was more important. "I think we should change our song for tomorrow night, and pick something that we can put some real dance moves to."
"Excuse me, Miss Thang, but we were having a discussion," Mercedes informed her.
"Hold on," Kurt said to her. "Indulge us for a moment, please, and we'll get back to our critique of the fashions at the royal wedding." He turned to Rachel. "Why do you want to change it? We picked something from the Wizard of Oz because Wicked is our musical, the first one we sang a song from on a Broadway stage. But singing something from Wicked would be too obvious and trendy, so...Wizard of Oz." He raised his eyebrows, indicating with a look that the logic should be obvious.
"Yes, and I agree with that reasoning, but Kurt! NYADA trains triple threat performers. We need to show singing, acting, AND dancing. We need to change it."
"Assuming I agree with you," he spoke with exaggerated patience, "what do you suggest we change it to?"
"I don't know...something from one of the older musicals, but it needs to be something for at least two people, and we need to dance to it."
"Hold on, hold on..." Mercedes broke in. "You guys seriously don't see the obvious answer here?" They both looked at her blankly, waiting. "You're already thinking Wicked, Wizard of Oz, you need something not trendy and has a dance beat."
"Well, don't keep us in suspense," from Kurt.
"Guys...The Wiz! Ease on Down the Road!"
They stared at her, before Rachel said it. "Do we need to point out the obvious? The Wiz is the black version of The Wizard of Oz, we'd never be cast in that."
"But that's why it's perfect! No one would ever expect the skinny white boy and loudmouth Jewish girl to do it! In The Wiz, they're headed toward New York, not the Emerald City, which is another reason it's a better fit for you two. And you said you wanted a dance beat," Mercedes finished, crossing her arms with an air of finality. They all looked back and forth at each other, the hubbub of the Glee Club's conversation around them punctuated by the not-so-quiet whispers of the Schuesters arguing on stage left.
"I'm not that loud mouthed," Rachel said finally, defensive. Her friends laughed outright at that, not even trying to hold back. She pouted. She really wasn't that bad.
"What do you think?" Kurt asked her when he stopped chortling. "The Wiz?"
"It might work," she conceded. "It would be unexpected, she's right about that."
"No, Will!" Terri Schuester exclaimed loudly, drawing everyone's attention to the couple. Mr. Schue looked their way, embarrassed, and guided his wife into the shadows of the wings.
"Talk about the Wicked Witch of the West," Kurt muttered.
"Yeah, witch with a capital B," Mercedes added.
Rachel had other things on her mind. "C'mon, Kurt-while they're fighting, let's ask Brad to help us choose the right key." She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the piano. They explained what they needed and the accompanist, who always seemed to know every song they asked him for no matter what genre, immediately began playing "Ease on Down the Road" in different keys, letting them vocalise along and find which fit their voices best.
They'd just about decided when a hand brought the cover crashing down on the keys, which fortunately Brad didn't have his fingers on at the time. Terri Schuester glared at them from the other side of the piano.
"You Glee kids think you're so special, you think nothing of taking my husband away from home where he should be, with me. And you think you're going to make a career out of all this foolishness, but you're just going to disappoint yourselves and end up no where," she snarled.
"Hey, what would you know about it?" Santana challenged. Rachel hadn't even seen her walk up with the other two Cheerios. "How high have you ever reached, Miss Linens-and-Things?"
"That's right. I'm living proof that success in high school doesn't mean success after school. So enjoy your cute micro skirt now, because being a cheerleader won't get you anywhere in the real world."
"At least Rachel and Kurt aren't afraid to try," Quinn said quietly to her. "The people who end up being Lima Losers will stay here because they're too afraid to try for more. Is that what happened to you?"
"You listen to me, you MTV Teenage Mom wannabe-" her furious retort was cut off by Mr. Schue, who took her by the arm and began leading her offstage.
"That's enough, Terri," he told his wife, looking apologetically at Quinn. The head cheerleader pressed her lips together tightly as Brittany gave her a hug.
"Mike, Brittany, take over the rehearsal please," Mr. Schue called as he escorted his still-ranting wife through the auditorium toward the exit. There was a general grumbling as the Glee Club moved back into their places, with their two best dancers at the front now.
"Thanks, Santana, Quinn," Rachel said to them both as their temporary teachers conferred between themselves.
"Just because I stood up for you doesn't mean I don't agree with Real Housewife out there," Santana shrugged.
"Then why'd you say anything?" Kurt asked from the Cheerios' other side.
"Just because we insult each other, doesn't mean I'm going to stand by and let some outsider do it. Takes all the sting out of my insults if someone else beats me to it." Santana tightened her ponytail as she spoke and bent to check her laces, indicating that she considered the conversation over.
Mike announced they would work on a pas de bourree, pivot turn combination with arm movements. Again, this was easy for Rachel, who paid just enough attention to know when they were being asked to perform the move yet again for those who didn't get it right the first time, unlike her. She felt badly for Mr. Schue, who was probably still fighting with his high-maintenance wife outside. The woman was so miserable in her pathetic little life that she even took it out on high school students. Not me, Rachel decided. She wasn't going to be a Lima Loser, stuck here forever. She'd find her own Yellow Brick Road to New York City, even if she had to walk all the way there.
She was so focused on her thoughts as she pivoted again, that she didn't realize how close she'd danced to Finn. She spun left-the correct way-as he spun right. She barely had time to see his large hand come up toward her face before the impact.
"Ow! Finn!" She pressed a hand to her abused nose, her eyes watering in pain.
"Crap! Sorry, Rachel-are you okay? Here, let me see, is it broken?" Her boyfriend kept babbling apologies as he tried to pry her fingers away from her face.
"I'm fine," she snapped, pushing him away. "It's not even bleeding, but that hurt, Finn! Try to spin the right way next time!"
"Sorry, I'm sorry. You know I suck at this!"
She probed the bridge of her nose gingerly. She really didn't think it was broken, but really. It was bad enough that she was wasting her time with this instead of focusing on her NYADA audition, did she have to get physically assaulted too?
"Are you okay to continue, Rachel?" Mike asked.
"No, I'm not," she said, making up her mind.
"But you said it wasn't broken," Finn protested.
"I'm not okay with wasting my time on this dance rehearsal which I don't need, because I can learn any choreography we've ever done in five minutes!" She glared at all of them. "The rest of you can stay here and see if you learn to spin in the right direction at the right time, I'm done. Let me know when you've caught up to me, but I'm leaving." She pushed her way through the Glee members and down the stage steps.
"Rachel!" Finn called after her, and then she heard Santana say, "Oh let her storm out. She hasn't done it for at least a month, she obviously needs to work it out of her system."
Rachel continued out of the auditorium and through the double exit doors into the McKinley courtyard, fuming the whole way. It wasn't fair that she was stuck here, in this nothing town where her talent was too big and opportunities were so far away. It would all be different when she was in New York. She just had to get there.
"Hey, Hobbit!" a male voice taunted her as she crossed the courtyard. She turned toward the voice, which was a mistake. She only caught a glimpse of a red varsity jacket before reflexively closing her eyes, an instant before the slushie hit her face. She jerked back from the onslaught of crushed ice, lost her balance, and fell backward. The last thing she was aware of was the thud as her head hit the cement.
Awareness was slow to come back. There seemed to be voices murmuring nearby, but she couldn't make out what the voices were saying. She thought she felt a breeze...was she outside? Had she been outside before? Hold on...before what? Her eyes opened suddenly, as she realized she couldn't remember where she'd been just a few minutes ago. Bright sunlight assaulted her eyes and she had to shut them again, then cracked them open just slightly, letting herself adjust. Finally getting her eyes completely open after a moment, she managed to sit up and look around, only to find herself with a lapful of wiggly dog.
"Where did you come from?" she asked him, as he stood on his hind legs to lick her face. She laughed, pushing him down gently to prevent more doggy kisses directly on her mouth, and looked for a tag on his collar. There was a bone-shaped one, engraved with TOTO but no phone number or any other information. She rubbed his ears and looked around, trying again to get her bearings.
She was sitting on a paved road made with golden bricks, which seemed familiar somehow. The road led off behind her and through a closed gate, she discovered when she turned to look, but came to a decreasing spiral that ended exactly where she sat, in the middle of what seemed to be some sort of enclosed courtyard. There was something about all of this that seemed familiar, but at the same time, she couldn't help the feeling that she'd just woken up from a nap in a new, strange place. Thinking that she'd like to meet whatever happened next on her feet, she started to get up and then stopped, staring down at herself. She was wearing a blue and white gingham dress, and on her feet were sparkling ruby slippers. Her hair was in twin pigtails, curling gently down both shoulders. She certainly didn't remember putting on these clothes or styling her hair this way, but she couldn't seem to remember much of anything before waking up here.
She got up, finally, deciding that there were better things to worry about than an unexplained costume change, and looked around. The courtyard seemed to be empty, but she had that disconcerting feeling of being watched.
"Hello?" she called. "Is anyone there?"
Toto barked once, looking up into the sky. Following his gaze, she saw a large bubble floating over the fence toward her, and inside the bubble stood a woman in an extravagant white dress. She watched, astounded, as the bubble landed directly in front of her, and the woman inside reached out to lightly tap her enclosure with one fingernail. The sphere burst, and Rachel closed her eyes reflexively to avoid the resulting spray from the popping of such a large bubble. When she cautiously opened them again, the woman stood in front of her rubbing the bubble's spray into her hands. A woman in a big poofy dress who traveled by bubble seemed to make some kind of strange sense to Rachel, but she couldn't imagine why she was rubbing the bubble into her skin.
"It's a sanitizing bubble," the ginger haired woman explained, noticing Rachel's look. "As long as I stay inside there, I can avoid all germs and contaminants. I rarely come out of it, but I made an exception for you."
To this Rachel could only nod, devoid of speech for the moment.
"I'm Emma, the Good Witch of the North." She smiled a welcome.
"Rachel Barbra Berry," she replied, and curtsied. "I didn't know there were pretty witches."
"There aren't many of us, but we do exist!" she answered brightly. "Well, Rachel Barbra Berry, why are you here?"
"I'm...not sure," Rachel stammered. "Can you tell me, where am I?"
"You're in Oz, of course."
"Oz...what a strange name," she mused. "Well, I just woke up here, and I'm not quite sure of where 'here' is, though it does seem familiar, and I'm also not sure how I got into these clothes. I don't know where this dog came from, though he seems to think he's mine." The small terrier sat at her feet and whined softly. "And I don't think I belong here, no matter how much it seems like I've been here before."
"Hmmm...I'm not sure I have a pamphlet for that situation." Emma opened a file folder-where had that come from-and browsed through the pages inside. "I do have one about that dream where you're naked in front of a crowd, that's very common. But not waking up in different clothes, hmm. And you don't know how you got here?" Rachel shook her head. "Well, do you know where you want to go?"
"Yes!" Rachel exclaimed, thrilled to realize she did know the answer to that question. She hadn't thought about it until she was asked, but- "I want to go to New York, and Broadway. I'm going to be a huge Broadway star."
"Ahh, if that's your goal, then you need to see the Wizard."
"Wizard? Who's that?"
"THE Wizard," Emma repeated as if that explained everything, "the one and only, can grant any kind of wish, but specializes in Broadway dreams."
"That's wonderful!" This seemed almost too good to be true. "So where is this Wizard?" she asked, looking around the courtyard.
"Oh, you won't find The Wizard here," Emma laughed. "You have to go to New York City. And you want to go there anyway, so this is convenient, right? The Wizard holds court on the stage of the Gershwin Theatre."
"Right, of course." So many things seemed to make sense once Emma said them out loud. "Can you tell me the way to New York City?"
"That's the easiest question of all to answer...just follow the Yellow Brick Road." Emma gestured expansively to the golden path that disappeared through the gate.
"Follow the Yellow Brick Road, follow the Yellow Brick Road," Rachel chanted to herself as she stepped through the gate with Emma and it closed behind them. And then she stopped in wonder. In comparison to the drab concrete courtyard she'd just left, the world outside the gates was rolling green fields and blue skies, as far as she could see. The Yellow Brick Road wound its way toward the horizon, disappearing over a hill or around a curve but always reappearing.
"Oz is beautiful," she whispered to the Good Witch. Something about the view inspired reverence in her.
"Yes, it is. But it has its dangers too. There are plenty of places to get dirty or pick up germs, which is why I stay in my sanitizing bubble most of the time. You'll want to avoid the poppy fields, if you lie down in them you'll go to sleep and have dreams that are quite disturbing, and never wake up." She waited, seeming to need some reaction, so Rachel nodded her understanding. Like she'd really stop to nap in a field of flowers when her Broadway dream was waiting in New York. "And most of all, you'll want to watch out for-"
"Well, what have we here?" a new voice intruded. The question was followed by what Rachel could only describe as a cackle. Which she found was appropriate when she turned to find the owner of the voice, for she was the very definition of a witch. Green skin, pointed black hat, a broom, and even a witch's familiar in the form of a fat tabby cat. Weren't witches' familiars supposed to be black cats? The random thought drifted through her mind before it hit her that she was face-to-face with an honest-to-goodness witch, and one with an angry expression on her face to boot. She squeaked in fright (how embarrassing) and stepped back, wondering frantically how to defend herself. She was Rachel Berry, future Broadway star, not Rachel Berry, witch hunter.
Toto pressed against her leg, growling softly at the cat, who hissed and arched his back.
Emma stepped in front of her. "She's the one I was trying to warn you about," she said without taking her eyes off her adversary. "Leave now Terri," she said to the green-skinned woman. "You don't have to harass this girl."
"Oh, but I do...I get so few chances for entertainment!" She stepped closer, leaning around Emma to smirk at Rachel. "What's this one after? What makes her think she's so special? What's she going to ask the Wizard for?"
"Leave, or you'll regret it. Last warning."
The witch only laughed, and took another step closer. Before Rachel knew what was happening, Emma raised her hand up to the witch's face and the green skinned woman screamed, covering her face and backing away quickly.
"This isn't over! You can't protect her forever, and I'll see to it that she never makes it to The Wizard!" With that, the witch disappeared in a cloud of green smoke, leaving her cat blinking for a moment before it too disappeared with a protesting yowl.
Rachel coughed from the residual vapor, which smelled suspiciously of rotten eggs. "Who was that? And how did you make her go away?"
"That," Emma said primly as she smoothed down her bodice, "was Terri the Terrible, the Wicked Witch of the West. She's nothing more than a sad, frustrated nobody whose dreams never came true. So she can't bear to see anyone else pursue their dreams."
"What would she have done to me?"
"Oh, she can't really hurt you, not unless you let her. Her only real power is in intimidation and being negative. But negative words, even thoughts, can be enough to keep some people from pursuing their goals and dreams. Don't be one of those."
Rachel nodded seriously. If that was all the witch was about, she was sure she could stand against her. "How did you scare her off, though?"
"Oh, I always carry extra sanitizer with me." Emma showed her the small tube in her hand with a spray nozzle on one end. "I don't know why exactly, but she's terrified of all cleansers and sanitizers. It's like she's deathly allergic to it. I discovered it by accident when she burst my sanitizing bubble, and some of it sprayed on her. She shrieked and disappeared, and ever since then I've carried extra sanitizer." She pressed it into Rachel's hand. "Here, you take this. But be careful-that one's almost empty and it probably won't be enough to scare her off more than once." She stepped back, and her large bubble reappeared around her. "Good luck, Rachel Barbra Berry."
Rachel watched Emma float up and drift off on the breeze, wondering if this day could get any more surreal. When the bubble had disappeared, she turned to regard the Yellow Brick Road.
"Well, Toto-I don't know how far it is to New York City, so we'd better get started." She stepped out in her ruby slippers, her new companion trotting by her side.
The terrain continued to be beautiful, but walking for hours on one path grew tedious after a while and Rachel found she had time to think. She was still somewhat nervous about her unknown circumstances, but at least she was headed toward New York. She wasn't quite sure why she felt so strongly that New York was where she needed to be, but the conviction was there. She knew that she could sing, and dance, and that performing was all she'd ever really wanted to do with her life. There was also a nagging feeling that wherever she'd come from (she still couldn't remember, which was rather disconcerting) her talent and ambition hadn't been sufficiently recognized and nurtured. But she was on her way now, and everything would be different in New York. She wished she knew how far it was, but at least she wouldn't get lost. The Yellow Brick Road led in one direction only...until hours later, when she came to a point where it didn't.
"Well this is certainly inconvenient, Toto." She contemplated the golden path that now split off in three different directions. "That pretty witch didn't say anything about which way to go when the Yellow Brick Road did this. Rather negligent of her to make it sound as if the road only led one way." She peered down the road in each direction, hoping to find a clue, but there was nothing. "And we haven't seen a soul since Emma floated away. I wish there were someone we could ask for directions."
"I'm someone," a female voice announced from the cornfield to her right, startling her. "At least, I think I'm someone."
Rachel looked around, but didn't see anyone. Just cornfields, the Yellow Brick Road, and a scarecrow hanging high on a pole.
"Did you hear someone, Toto?" she asked him. Her small dog looked up at her, and barked once. He ran over to the edge of the cornfield with the scarecrow in it, and barked several times. So she wasn't imagining it. She approached the cornfield herself. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
"I'm there," the same voice replied. "Unless I'm here."
"She has the most curious way of talking," Rachel muttered to herself, walking around the scarecrow to look between the rows. She raised her voice. "Excuse me, but where are you?"
"I don't know. I can't see you."
Rachel spun quickly around, but saw no one. Just the scarecrow, its back to her now, swaying slightly in the breeze. She walked around it again.
"There you are. And there's me."
She gazed up in wonder at the scarecrow above her. Its face appeared to be that of a girl about her own age, with twin braids down her shoulders plaited from yellow straw. She looked familiar somehow. The wide eyes regarded her with an open curiosity, then blinked.
With a start, Rachel realized she was staring. "Begging your pardon," she said, dropping into a curtsy. "I'm Rachel. I didn't mean to stare, but I've never seen a female scarecrow before. Or one that talks."
"You haven't?" the Scarecrow asked, and her burlap face creased into a smile.
"Definitely not. I'd remember having a conversation with a scarecrow. Is everything in Oz this amazing?"
"I don't know. I've only seen these cornfields, and I don't really know anything else."
"You've never seen anything but these cornfields?" Rachel asked. The scarecrow's head bobbed up and down, bits of straw drifting to the ground. "You've been here your entire life? How dreadfully boring for you. Do you want to see other places?"
"Do I? I don't know." Her gloved hand came up to scratch at her head through her floppy hat. "What other places are there to see?"
"Well, I'm going to New York City, to see if The Wizard can make me a Broadway star. New York is a wondrous place. Would you like to come with me?"
The scarecrow's painted-on brows knit together for a moment. "Do you think this Wizard has any brains?" she asked hopefully.
"From what I've been told about how wonderful he is, I hope he has brains."
"I'm sure he has brains of his own, everyone does, except me. But do you think he has brains to share? I could really use one, because until I have a brain I can't make up my mind about things like whether to go to New York City with you, because I don't have a mind to make up."
"No brain?" That seemed most unusual, especially for someone who could talk. But the scarecrow nodded. "Tell you what...I'll decide for you, just for now. You're coming to New York City with me, and you'll ask The Wizard for a brain!" She beamed, pleased with her solution.
"That sounds wonderful! Let's go!" Her legs began a walking motion before she looked down. "Oh. I forgot that I'm hanging up here. Why do feet need to touch the ground to walk?"
It took a few minutes, but together they figured out how the scarecrow had been mounted on the pole and with the turn of a large nail, she came sliding down. She landed in a heap amidst the dirt and bits of corn husks, her limbs sprawled in every direction. To Rachel's amazement, she straightened gracefully with a roll of her body, finally stilling with her head up and looking around.
"So this is what the world looks like!" She regarded the rows of corn. "Not much to see, is there?" She turned in a slow circle to her right. "Maybe if I look the other way." She turned again, this time to her left, and stopped again with a puzzled look. Rachel was starting to think that puzzled look was her normal facial expression.
"You'll see more if you step out of the cornfield," she suggested. She took the scarecrow's hand, trying to lead her out of the rows of crops, but had only taken a couple of steps when the scarecrow stumbled. She rolled twice down the mild slope at the edge of the field, and stood again with no break in her fluid forward motion till she stood with feet firmly planted (though pointing in different directions) on the Yellow Brick Road. She had very good turnout, Rachel noticed as she admired the scarecrow's perfect second position.
"That helped!" she declared happily. "So this is what the world looks like!"
Rachel looped an arm through hers. "Which way shall we go? I was trying to decide when I met you."
Toto was already trotting off. "Your dog seems to think that's the right way," the scarecrow said, already following and forcing Rachel to follow. She reasoned that she didn't know which road led to New York City, and following Toto was as good a plan as any. Perhaps he was smelling his way.
"His name is Toto," she mentioned as they strolled along.
"Does he have double the amount of toes?" her companion asked.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Well, you named him Toe twice. Does he have double toes?"
"No, it's just a name."
"Why not Tutu? Then he could wear a tutu and be my dance partner," the scarecrow said dreamily.
"I don't think Toto dances," Rachel said. The scarecrow looked like she was going to say something else, but Rachel cut her off, almost afraid to hear what she'd say next. "Do you have a name? I'd feel awful calling you 'Scarecrow' all the way to New York."
She seemed to think about that. "I don't think so."
"Would you like to pick a name for yourself?" Rachel asked.
"I don't think I have the brains for that," she replied sadly. "Would YOU like to name me?" she asked brightly.
"I'd be honored," Rachel smiled. "Let me think..." She stopped the scarecrow, looking at her intently. "From the moment I saw you, I knew you reminded me of someone." She studied her open, trusting face. "I've got it! When I was little, I had a doll with blond braids like yours, and rosy cheeks and blue eyes. Her name was Brittany. Would you like to be called Brittany?"
She nodded emphatically, her straw neck rustling with the movement. "Shall we continue?" she asked, holding out her arm for Rachel to loop her own through. "Lead the way, Tutu!" she called to the small dog who'd stopped to sniff at something in the bushes, and stepped forward.
Rachel stopped, pulling on the scarecrow's arm to stop her as well. "I'm sorry, Brittany. I gave you your name, and you like it, don't you?" She waited for the nod. "Toto likes his name too, and if you're going to travel with us, I insist that you call Toto by his correct name."
"But he'd look too too cute in a tutu," Brittany said wistfully.
"His name is Toto," Rachel said emphatically before striding over to retrieve her dog. "Toto, what are you sniffing at? We need to keep moving if we want to get to New York!"
The small terrier sat down in the bushes and looked up at her, woofing softly. He put out a paw and scratched at something, and whatever it was caused a jarring screeching sound. Rachel could see something shiny in the undergrowth.
"What was that?" Brittany asked, coming closer. She leaned over and parted the leaves, and they gazed in wonder at a shiny, metallic...person. Its feet were half buried in the grass, and an axe was held in one motionless hand. Its face looked angry. "Is it a statue?" she asked.
"Well, who would put a statue out here in the bushes?" Rachel asked. "I wonder what it's made of." She reached forward to rap her knuckles against the figure, then jumped back as a muffled, high pitched noise was heard. "Did you make that noise?" she asked Brittany. The scarecrow's braids scratched against her shirt as she shook her head, her eyes wide and frightened against the dirty brown of her burlap face.
"I think he made the noise." She pointed hesitantly at the shiny figure.
"Statues don't talk, Brittany!" Rachel informed her.
"Neither do scarecrows."
"True. Things are different here." She leaned forward and knocked again on the figure's chest, and an echo was heard along with the same high muffled squeal. Brittany walked forward, seemingly over her alarm, till she was nose to nose with the shiny figure. She stared intently for a moment, making Rachel wonder once again what was going through that brainless head of hers.
"She's a she," Brittany announced confidently. "And she needs us to un-statue her."
"What does that even mean?" Rachel asked.
"Her arms and legs and everything else have gone all stiff. She can't move. I don't know much, but I do remember seeing someone in my cornfield use something they called an oil can on a shiny part that got frozen."
"Assuming you're right," and Rachel hoped her tone conveyed how unlikely Brittany's theory was, "how are we supposed to find an oil can out here?"
The straw girl looked off into the middle distance. "We need one, so it should be around somewhere."
Rachel was just about to point out the illogic of that statement when Toto barked, and scratched again at the feet of the tin man-or woman, if Brittany was to be believed. Rachel looked more closely where Toto was pawing and saw, in the grass next to the statue's foot, an oil can.
"There is one here! You were right!" She picked it up. Maybe things like this just happened in Oz. The things that you needed just appeared. "Which part should we oil first?"
"Her mouth," Brittany responded. "She has something to say."
So Rachel squeezed the can to apply a generous squirt of the thick liquid to the corners of the statue's mouth, and in spite of being warned, was still surprised to see the mouth start to move. The jaw worked up, down, and side to side, before opening to say, "Get that mongrel off my feet! If he thinks he's going to use me for a pee post, I'll go after him with my axe!"
"Well that's gratitude for you!" Rachel dropped the can. "See if I give you any more oil. You can stay frozen for all I care!" She spun around to stomp away through the undergrowth, calling Toto.
"Wait!" Brittany's voice stopped her. She stepped up nose to nose with the tin woman again. "You should be nicer. Rachel was just trying to help you." She pointed to Rachel, as if she could be talking about anyone else. "That's Rachel. She's bossy but she's nice." (Rachel harrumphed at that.) "And her dog is Tutu. He wasn't going to pee on you. I wouldn't let him. I know if you get peed on, you rust and your parts start falling off. And then your legs and arms would just be lying on the ground, and birds would steal straw from me and make their nests inside your empty metal limbs, and then when all the baby birds hatch you'd get pooped on too. But that's not going to happen, because I won't let Tutu pee on you."
"His name is Toto!"
"Tutu, Toto, either way it's a stupid name," the metallic woman snapped. "Why are we talking about the dog? Are either of you going to un-freeze me?"
"No. We're going to leave you stuck there, which is no more than you deserve for being so foul. Come on, Brittany!" Rachel scooped up Toto and started marching away.
"I'm not going to leave her!" Brittany protested. "That wouldn't be nice." She picked up the can and proceeded to dribble oil on all joints. Rachel fumed as she waited. She considered going on anyway, but the truth was that it was frightening to be all alone here, and Brittany was someone to talk to at least. With several squeaks and creaks, the former statue lifted her feet out of the grass and stumbled clumsily forward. After several stiff steps, she turned by slow awkward degrees to face Brittany.
"Thank you." It looked as though she moved her mouth only with difficulty.
The scarecrow's face creased into a wide grin. "You're welcome. Would you like a little more oil on your mouth?" More squeaks accompanied the nod. Brittany applied more, asking, "What's your name?"
"Santana." Her very voice sounded rusty, as if she hadn't spoken for a long time. Rachel found herself automatically thinking of vocal exercises that might help her voice warm up.
"That's pretty. And you're pretty." Brittany leaned in, peering at herself in her chest. "I like the way you're all shiny, I can see myself in you."
Rachel cautiously came closer again, keeping an eye on the axe held by the metal woman. "Santana, did you say? How did you come to be in the woods, and frozen like that?"
Santana turned toward Rachel with a look of contempt. "I don't owe you my life story just because Straw Girl here squirted some oil on me."
"Brittany," the scarecrow said softly.
"What?"
"My name is Brittany. She named me." She pointed at Rachel again.
Santana's expression softened just slightly. "Your name fits you. Looks like the Munchkin wannabe did something right."
"I'm not that short!" Rachel exclaimed indignantly. "And you're mean! No wonder you stayed frozen in the woods long enough for your feet to get stuck in the ground, I'm sure no one missed you!"
She raised a hand to her chest and held it there. "Oh, I'm heartbroken by your amateur insults," she replied mockingly. "Oh wait-no I'm not, because I don't have a heart to break!"
"No heart?" Brittany asked. Santana rapped sharply on herself, and the hollow sound echoed through her metal frame. "That's so sad. I don't have a brain."
"Which is why you agreed to let me decide things for you, till The Wizard can give you one," Rachel said briskly. "And right now, I'm deciding that we should be on our way." She turned to leave.
"Wait!" Brittany looked at Santana. "We're going to New York City so that The Wizard can help Rachel become a star, and I can get a brain. If you come with us, maybe he can give you a heart."
"Brittany! I don't want her with us! She's awful!" Rachel hissed.
"You'd be awful too if you didn't have a heart," Brittany defended their new acquaintance. "The Wizard can fix her, and then she'll be nice. Won't you?" she asked Santana.
"Hold on, hold on...who says I want to be nice? Maybe I like being like this."
"See? She doesn't even want to change," Rachel exclaimed.
"I don't believe you," Brittany told Santana, more seriously than usual for her. "I think someone hurt you and you tried to convince yourself that you didn't feel anything, but it didn't work. And when you tried to stop your emotions, you...you just stopped. Until you got stuck here."
Both the other young women stared at her. Rachel was the first to find her voice. "That's ridiculous, Brittany. I think you should let me keep on thinking for you."
"I don't think she needs someone else to think for her at all," Santana said, speaking to Rachel but looking at the scarecrow. "I think she's smarter without a brain, than most people are with one. And if Brittany's going to see this Wizard, then I want to go too. I don't know if he can give me a heart, but I have nothing to lose by trying."
Rachel realized that Santana looked younger now that she wasn't yelling or insulting anyone. She appeared to be about the same age as herself and Brittany, though admittedly it was difficult to judge the age of a young woman made of straw or tin.
Brittany grinned wide and looped her straw arm through Santana's metal one. "Then let's go!"
"Wait," Rachel interrupted them. "If you're going to come with us, we need to set some ground rules. You can't threaten Toto or anyone else with your axe. And you have to try to be nice. You can't be mean to us all the way to New York City."
Santana rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll withold my more biting comments on your height, your dress, and your less-than-perfect manners. Just keep the mutt away from me."
"Toto is not a mutt!" Rachel retaliated. "He's a purebred Cairn Terrier!" She wasn't even sure how she knew that, but she was certain of her dog's breed all the same.
"Whatever, just keep him away from me." She plucked her oil can out of Brittany's hand, hanging it on a hook at her waist. "Shall we?"
They stepped out on the Yellow Brick Road, Brittany weaving from side to side in that loose-limbed way of hers, Santana still lifting each foot stiffly but moving a bit easier the longer they walked. Rachel walked along behind them, carrying Toto and wondering how her day had turned into this.
A few hours passed by uneventfully on the Yellow Brick Road. Rachel got bored walking in the back by herself and caught up to the other two so she could walk beside them. She told them all about her future as a Broadway star, and how it was going to be so much better than where she came from, where no one really appreciated her. Though she still couldn't remember details, she just knew that where she'd come from hadn't been the best place for her.
She'd been talking for a while and the scenery had changed from crop fields to a forest when Santana wrenched her hand free from Brittany's grasp and rounded on her. "Enough! I can't listen to you talk about yourself anymore. I'd rather be back in the bushes, imitating a statue again."
"Well, it's not as if your life has been so amazing."
"I wasn't always frozen like you found me, you know. I had a life before that. Not as cushy as yours though. You probably ran away from a great place where people loved you, and supported you, and always told you you were right."
"What would you know about my life?"
"Oh, I know your type, Poor Little Rich Girl. You've been so spoiled and doted on your entire life, that the first time things don't go your way, you're all woe-is-me, no-one-understands-me-"
"But they didn't! No one ever paid attention to me, no one ever appreciated my talent or that I was too good to be there. I'm glad to be here. I'd rather be headed toward New York, and Broadway, than going back where I came from!"
"You know what I think? I think you're a spoiled brat who never realized how good she had it!" Santana spat, stepping into Rachel's space.
"Stop yelling in my face, you don't know what I've coped with!"
Brittany tried to step between them. "Don't fight. We should all be friends."
"Oh no, I never said I wanted to be friends with-" Rachel stopped with a yelp as a roar drowned out her voice. Instinctively, all three girls turned back to back, forming a three sided circle as they watched the forest warily. It was only now, as she paused to truly scrutinize their surroundings, that she realized how dark it had gotten. Toto crowded in by her ankles, trying to wedge himself into the middle of their little group. "Do-" Her voice came out in a squeak. She tried again. "Do you think there are dangerous creatures in these woods?
"Probably lions," Brittany whispered.
"L-l-lions?"
"And tigers," Santana added.
"Maybe bears?" Rachel asked.
"Maybe."
They stayed there, quivering against each other and trying to look in every direction at once, for several moments. Finally Santana spoke.
"We can't just stand here like this, waiting for whatever animals are out there to come get us. I think we should link arms so we stay close together, and walk out of here as quickly as we can." Rachel looked over her shoulder at Brittany and saw from her nod that she agreed with this plan. Slowly, they unpeeled themselves and linked arms, with Rachel taking one outside edge so she could hold Toto with her other arm. Santana took the other outside edge, saying she was the only one with a weapon. "And I'm willing to use it."
"Which one are you most afraid of?" Rachel whispered. "I think the lion."
"Tiger," Santana admitted.
"Bear," Brittany said softly.
"Lions."
"And tigers."
"And bears! Oh my!"
Admitting their fears out loud seemed to help. They began striding forward faster, more confidently, raising their voices in unison now.
"Lions and tigers and bears!" they said a little louder. "Lions and tigers and bears, lions and tigers and bears!" they exclaimed, and paused for breath.
"Apples and melons and pears!" Brittany shouted.
The other two stopped, pulling the middle girl to a halt with them, staring at her in confusion. She shrugged. "It just seemed to fit."
"But what does it-" Rachel shrieked as a huge, furry, beast launched itself at her from the shadows. She flung herself backward, bringing Brittany down with her by her grip on the scarecrow's arm, and losing her hold on Toto. She heard his indignant yip but couldn't spare a moment to see where he'd landed. She found herself flat on her back, looking up into the face of the hairy monster looming over her, and wondering hazily why everyone she'd met on the Yellow Brick Road had the face of a teenage girl.
"ROAR!" her assailant yelled in her face. Did she actually just say 'roar'? Rachel couldn't help it, she started laughing hysterically at the absurdity of it all, till a large paw gripped her face, claws digging ever-so-slightly into her flesh. The one pressed against the side of her nose felt like it was pressing deeper than the others, about to break the skin.
"Not my nose, not my nose..." she whimpered, for the first time trying to squirm away.
"I'll bite your nose off!" The lioness-it was a lioness, she realized suddenly-warned before pinning both her hands and leaning down with its mouth opening.
Rachel shrieked again, closing her eyes to avoid watching her own face being eaten off, when she felt the lioness freeze. She cracked her eyes open fearfully, to see an axe pressed against her captor's throat. The lioness jerked her head up to avoid the sharp edge, but the weapon just followed her, staying pressed against her fur.
"As much as I've wanted to claw her face off several times in our brief acquaintance," came Santana's voice from behind the lion, "I won't just stand here and watch while you do it. Back off...NOW."
The grip on her wrists loosened, and Rachel was surprised to see the lioness' fierce expression slowly crumple in on itself, her lower lip trembling, and her eyes blinking furiously as if to hold back tears.
"Don't hurt me," she whimpered. "Don't, don't..."
"Then get off her," came the command.
Her weight disappeared off Rachel suddenly as she reared back and rolled away from the blade, all in one smooth motion. Rachel sat up shakily, starting to hyperventilate now that the immediate threat was over, feeling light-headed. She gripped her gingham-clad knees, lowering her head between them. She tried to take deep breaths. There was a creaking sound and she raised her head enough to see metal legs walk by, as Santana moved to stand guard over the lion who was curled on her side, sniffling. Rachel lowered her head again.
"I took care of Tutu for you," Brittany's voice came from next to her. "I think he was scared when he flew, but he's not hurt. He landed in some nice soft bushes."
Rachel reached out for her pet, holding him against her and immediately felt better. "Oh, Toto, I'm so sorry I dropped you like that. I didn't mean to." She buried her face in his fur, breathing his doggy scent and letting her tense muscles relax. "Thank you for taking care of him," she said as Toto wiggled free of her grip enough to brace his paws on her chest and lick her face.
Brittany rustled as she nodded acknowledgement, then rolled upright in that fluid, boneless way of hers before walking over to where Santana still stood with axe at the ready. She knelt down by the shivering lion, putting a hand on her back.
"Brittany! She could bite your face off!" the tin girl cautioned.
"She won't," Brittany shook her head. "She's more scared than we are."
"Well she almost bit MY face off!" Rachel retorted from her spot on the ground. Feeling steadier now, she managed to get to her feet and step over to the little group, putting Toto down. It was true that the lion didn't look so fearsome now, on the ground with her paws over her face, but Rachel wasn't going to be mollified by a few whimpers. Brittany was stroking the lion's back and murmuring to her softly. "What do you think you were doing, jumping out at me like that?" Rachel demanded. "You nearly scared the wits out of me!"
The lion mumbled something, too indistinct to hear.
"Oh for crying out loud," Santana snapped. "Stop sniveling and sit up, get your ugly paws off your face so we can hear you." She'd lowered her axe, apparently deciding that the pitiful animal in front of them wasn't so dangerous after all.
Brittany reached around the lion for the paw she laid half on top of, showing no fear of putting herself close to sharp teeth. She tugged on both hands gently, helping the lion sit up. The large feline still huddled her knees, looking down.
"I-I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice still hitching. "I don't really like scaring people. But I was trying to prove that I'm brave. Lions are supposed to be brave, but I'm not. I'm the most cowardly lion you'll ever meet."
Santana snorted. "No offense, but jumping out at an unarmed teenage girl doesn't really prove anything. You could have picked a better way to prove yourself."
"But I'm too cowardly for anything else," the lion whispered, finally looking up at them. Now that she was able to look at her face without being terrified, Rachel saw that she was really quite pretty, with striking green eyes. "If only I knew how to get some courage, I could be Queen of the Beasts like I'm supposed to be. I'd be top of the food chain!" she finished defiantly, then ruined the effect with a shuddering breath.
"I thought it was King of Beasts?" Brittany questioned.
"Lions are the kings of beasts, and that means lionesses are the queens," she replied firmly. "I need to find my lion king, and then I'll be queen. But no lion will want me if I'm not the top lioness, so I have to prove my courage. It's just..." Her jaw quivered. "I don't have any courage!" She dropped her face into her paws again, her furry shoulders shaking.
Brittany rubbed her back soothingly. "She should come with us," she said, looking up at the other two. "Maybe The Wizard can give her some courage."
"Brittany! Are you going to invite every stray we encounter to come along with us?" Rachel exclaimed. This was really going too far. She needed to get to New York City and see The Wizard, and all these delays were pointless.
"Why not? You invited me."
"Little Miss Control Freak is only upset because it's not her idea," Santana said carelessly. "I don't really care if the scaredy-cat wants to come with us, but we should get a move on before it gets any darker."
Now that she looked around, Rachel realized that it was very gloomy in the woods. The Yellow Brick Road was still visible enough, but it was difficult to see even a few feet into the trees on either side of the bright path.
"I can't stay here after dark!" the lioness wailed suddenly. "I'm afraid of the dark!"
"Then let's go," Brittany said brightly. "We can't stop it from getting dark, but at least we'll be together." She grasped the lioness' front paws and pulled her to her feet. "Do you have a name?"
She sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of a paw. "Quinn." She blinked in a watery way at all of them as they introduced themselves.
"Well, Quinn, do you want to come with us or not? We're going to New York City to see some wizard who supposedly can grant all kinds of wishes. Sounds like some kind of con artist to me, but it's not like I have anywhere else to be, so I'm going."
"The Wizard is not a con artist," Rachel said to Quinn, shooting the tin girl a look at the same time. "He's a very powerful wizard and he's going to make me a star."
"And give me a brain, and Santana a heart, and you can get some courage."
"Do you really think so?" Quinn asked.
"Yes," Rachel said firmly. "Now, much as I hate to admit that Santana is right about something, it's getting darker the longer we stand here talking. So why don't we get out of these woods before we can't see where we're going?"
It was fully dark by the time the trees started to thin around them, giving way to rolling fields of grass and flowers. They had stayed close together through the forest, keeping continual watch for any more threats that might appear, even though Santana pointed out that the last creature that 'threatened' their little group merely got adopted, so why were they all so worried? Still, they all breathed a sigh of relief (along with a full body shudder from Quinn) when they finally cleared the last of the trees.
"I don't know about anyone else, but I'm exhausted," Rachel announced. "I've been walking all day, and these ruby slippers may be attractive but they're not the most practical for long distances."
"Maybe we could stop and rest for the night?" Brittany suggested.
They all agreed, and picked out a patch of grass next to the Yellow Brick Road to lie down, after Rachel checked for poppies nearby. She didn't want to sleep through her chance to see The Wizard. Quinn suggested, with a fearful look around, building a fire to ward off the darkness, but Brittany vetoed that with a terrified look of her own. "Fire's the only thing I'm afraid of. Made of straw," she explained.
"You don't have to worry, Quinn," Santana told her, not as abrasively as usual. "We're all together, and I have an axe. Nothing's going to bother us."
It took them a while, but they eventually settled into positions that were somewhat comfortable for everyone. Rachel was feeling the cold and thought she'd be too chilly to sleep, till Quinn offered to let her sleep next to her and take advantage of her warm fur. Santana couldn't find a good way to rest her head at first. Her tin limbs and limited mobility made it difficult for her to lie down in any sort of relaxed pose, but Brittany said Santana could use her straw-stuffed belly as a pillow. Rachel called to Toto, who'd wandered off to sniff at things, and he trotted back to circle around and curl up by her side. Thus situated, they all quieted, letting the night sounds of Oz lull them to sleep. Rachel had almost drifted off when she opened her eyes to Brittany's voice.
"There are so many stars up there," the scarecrow mused, looking up at the constellations. "When you become a star, Rachel, how will we know which one is you?"
"She'll be the one that's the smallest, but somehow manages to take up the most space and make the most noise," Santana mumbled sleepily.
"Hey," Rachel murmured, too far gone to protest further. "I'm not going to be that kind of star..." And then she slept.
Continued...