A/N: A huge thanks to Poppy (populardarling on this website) for helping me out a lot with this fic. I don't know if it would exist today if it wasn't for her help.

Dedicated to: Anabelle (obsessive-elphaba on here). You know why this is dedicated to you :).

Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked or an electric shock therapy machine.

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When love for her ceased, so did Nessa's desire to live. She just didn't see why she should still be alive. There weren't even any good moments in her life to make up for the tears, the anxiety, and the stress. She had taken to extremes in trying to soothe the mental hurting with physical pain, and it helped at first, but after awhile it just wasn't enough. She didn't plan on killing herself, though…not yet…

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Boq was becoming immensely concerned for his Madame Governor. He had caught her crying desperately when she thought no one was looking, and had heard her getting sick in the bathroom (he figured this was from stress, but it was still too often for his liking). He also couldn't help to notice that some sharp objects had disappeared, and that Nessa started to take a liking to wearing long sleeves on warm days.

He had consulted one of the finest doctors in Munchkinland and found out there was a treatment for people with symptoms like Nessa had called electric shock therapy. At this point, he wasn't sure what else to do to help her (he realized that trying to comfort her wouldn't be enough), and thought this would be the best option.

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"Boq, where are we going?" Nessa asked him. Something about her voice sounded…different. Almost as if she had given up hope. Which she probably did, Boq concluded guiltily.

Nessa was looking out the window with a slightly questioned expression on her face. Boq turned towards the other window, not being able to bear telling her they were going to an asylum.

"It's a surprise, Nessa," Boq told her. He saw she smiled slightly at his use of her name, but not nearly as much as she would've a year ago…She really is depressed…he thought to himself.

Silence followed the trip. Any communication he tried to begin failed. However, she did hold his hand through the whole carriage ride (which he decided he would now allow, and found himself enjoying it. Maybe loving Nessa would be easier than he thought.).

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"Why are we at Marvel's Insane Asylum?" Nessa questioned as Boq rolled her up the pathway to the building, which was large and made of dull red bricks.

"Well, Nessa, I've been concerned about you…"

"Why?"

Boq stopped rolling her and kneeled beside her, taking her hand.

"I've seen you crying often, when you think no one's looking. I've heard you getting sick in the bathroom, and I've noticed several sharp objects missing and that you wear long sleeves on warm days."

Nessa blushed and hung her head low. A tear fell down her face. It broke Boq's heart.

"So you're sending me to an insane asylum?" Nessa asked him, looking up. Boq blanched.

"No, no, I'm not sending you here permanently…you're just going to be getting some…help."

"Help?" She was starting to get a bit angry, but still didn't let go of his hand.

"Well, this sounds worse than it is, but electric shock therapy…you'll only have to stay over night…"

"Electric shock therapy?" Nessa sounded too scared to be angry now. "That's…there's going to be electric going through…through my body…" she began to pale, tightening the grip on Boq's hand.

"Nessa, it'll be just fine," he said, and then he kissed her cheek. "It's going to help."

Silence. He began wheeling her again, and thought he noticed her shaking…

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The waiting was torture; it made every feeling of fear, anger, and anxiety increase with each passing minute. And each plea grew more desperate.

"But, Boq, everybody gets sad sometimes!" she begged him, a look of desperation in her eyes.

"Not the way you do, Nessarose."

Nessa ignored that. "Everyone gets sick sometimes, too."

"Sick and sad at the same time?"

"It can happen."

"You expect me to believe that people get sick and sad and intentionally hurt themselves physically all at the same time and not need any help?"

"Yes!"

Boq sighed.

Nessa opened her mouth to protest some more, when a short man wearing a white coat came out. She seemed to have lost her voice; this was it. This was it…

He came up to her (she and Boq were the only ones in the room, so there was no need to call out to the open). "Governor Nessarose Thropp?" He asked. She stayed silent, petrified with fear.

"Yes, that's her," Boq said, standing up. "She's…scared."

"A lot of them are, but they're almost always all right in the end," replied the man in the white coat. He smiled. Nessa was now frantically looking around. She felt sick, too. Almost as if she could vomit…

Boq kneeled down next to Nessa's chair, brushing back a loose strand of hair that was in her face. "Good bye, Nessa," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow.

"Bye, Boq," was all she could manage to say.

He kissed her on the lips, and for those three seconds she could say that almost all the bad feelings had left, but then those three seconds were over and she was reminded of what reality was at the moment.

"I love you," Boq told her.

Never mind, she could get a few more words out. "I love you, too."

A reassuring squeeze of hands and then he left.

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Boq knew Nessa would be just fine tomorrow…he knew things would be a lot better afterwards…her fear had just made the good bye harder, that look in her eyes…

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The man in the white coat (whom she found out was named Dr. Grey, and would be the doctor performing the electric shock therapy) wheeled her into a room that contained dark colors, but was well color coordinated. In the room was a gurney with straps and white sheets, and a huge machine.

"I don't think I need electric shock therapy," Nessa told the doctor. She was desperate, she was very anxious, she felt sick, and she felt scared. This is my last chance, she concluded. My last chance.

"And why is that, Madame?"

She cringed at the name, but didn't bother correcting him. "Everyone gets sad sometimes." She swallowed. "And everyone gets sick from stress sometimes, too. As governor, it's a very stressful job…" but she stopped talking because she felt herself getting a bit hysterical.

"But Mr. Riddle has told me greater details about your sadness, sickness, and self-harm. Madame-"

"Please call me Nessa. Please."

"Nessa, you'll be just fine. The electric shock will help you-"

"How does electric running through your body help? Wouldn't that kill you?" Hysteria was now obviously in Nessa's voice, and she began to roll herself backwards towards the door. "I can't do this!"

"Yes, yes you can," Dr. Grey said firmly. "You will." He grabbed the handles on her wheelchair and, after a second of avoiding getting his foot crushed, pulled back the break of the wheelchair, ceasing any attempts she had of escaping.

"I give up," Nessa exclaimed, a few tears running down her face. She felt as if she had lost hope now. Surely, she was going to die…electric going through her body would kill her…

Dr. Grey lifted her out of the wheelchair and placed her on the gurney, putting her under the covers and strapping her down.

"Why do you need to strap me down? Is it so I don't go flying off the gurney from the force of electricity?" Nessa asked, defeated.

"Yes, but you're not going to feel anything, because I'm going to put you to sleep," Dr. Grey said kindly. "All you have to do is breathe in the scent of this cloth."

Nessa did; it smelled…different. And then…

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Nessa woke up in a bed…that wasn't her own. What? She shifted, hearing the sounds of the sheets. She cracked open an eye, then panicked…I'm not at my house, where am I? Where am I?

Then she remembered the events from yesterday. Oh, this was good news! She survived the shock treatment! She smiled.

And today Boq would be picking her up. That made her smile…she remembered him letting her hold his hand, kissing her good-bye, telling her he loved her…just thinking about those memories from yesterday made her happy and content.

She couldn't wait to get back home.