Part Three
Oz took the stairs as slowly as humanly possible. Granted he could have crawled or refused to leave the first floor but figured it wouldn't help to act childish about the whole thing. He had some pride.
Neria was lounging against the wall filing her nails. If she was annoyed by the guitarist's slow progress, she didn't show it. This was the first time in ages she had had a few minutes to herself.
"Are you a demon?"
"What?!" she responded a little breathlessly. It wasn't often she was taken by surprise.
"You said you worked for Satan. What are you?"
Neria, not looking in his direction and taking a great interest into a pesky hangnail, choose her words carefully. "I was born human. And then I died. And then I became what you see." She tucked the nail file in a back pocket and defiantly folded her arms in front of herself. "Anything else you would like to know?"
"Why work for Satan? You could be helping people."
"I help people in my own special way. Why all the interest?"
Oz shrugged his shoulders. "You just don't seem that evil."
"Thanks for the job evaluation; that information will help us serve you better." Neria wrapped her arm around his shoulders and steered him towards the door of the room she wanted him to see.
"That's Buffy's room?"
"Ooohhh, realllly . . . . and how would a good boy like you know something like that? Hmmm?" her voice took on a new level of teasing, her smirk filling in the blanks of a story that never took place.
Oz refused to take the bait. If he could resist Devon's constant requests for details on his sex life, he should find this a cake walk. A shrug was all she would get out of him.
With a disappointed sigh, she pulled the guy through the door. The room was rather dark, lit by only a nearby street light. The walls were bare of any personal effects and only a large suitcase littered the floor. On the small bed at the end of the room, a small figure was curled up in a small ball, shivering and twitching because of some dream or nightmare. Even if Oz was blinded some freak occurrence, he would recognize her distinct smell. That scent made him feel like he had come home. Come home to Willow.
"You don't seem all the surprised to see her?"
"Surprised you didn't drag me here first."
Neria gave that smug grin again, "Hey, I don't tell you how to play guitar, you don't question the master. It is all part of the grand plan."
Willow let a little whimper and rolled onto her back, displaying the bandages on her abdomen. They were turning pink where some blood had started to seep through and Oz approached the bed to get a better look. He frowned, feeling strongly helpless.
Neria stayed at the foot of the bed but made sure she kept a good view of her charges' face. First lesson learned in this business was 'Always watch the face.' It was the easiest way to tell if you were making progress. "You can blame that on Gnarl, nasty little demon." She said and shivered.
"Gnarl dead?" He hoarsely whispered, not able to look away and starting to feel the burning seed of hatred. If it wasn't dead, Oz was planning on using every ounce of the monster inside of him to hunt and kill whatever it was that dared hurt his Willow.
"Yeah and good riddance, that creep really gave me the creeps."
He looked up and had to raise an eyebrow at that. "Satan's Little Helper freaked out by a fellow evil doer?"
She narrowed her eyes and looked genuinely insulted by that comparison. "Gnarl was a monster. It would take hours to peel stripes of skin from its victim's bodies, eat those pieces and then wash it down by licking up the blood. All the while with a running diatribe on how worthless of a person you are. If I was going to eat you, I would make sure you enjoyed it a whole lot more. Are we clear?"
"Translucent."
"Good."
Oz's eyes were drawn back to the bed, surprised to see the changes time had left in Willow. They weren't big changes, little things most people would not be able to notice at first glance. But her face was burned into his memory and on more than a few lonely nights, her memory was his only companion. He knew it wasn't really the healthiest way to go through life but until he found an alternative, it was all he had.
Superficially, he noticed that her hair was longer but that was hardly noteworthy. Even though asleep, Willow's body was tense and almost afraid to relax. Her mouth was drawn in a hard line and her eyes were bordered with faint worry lines. A light dabbling of perspiration dotted her brow but she shivered as if cold. Also, it looked as if she was suffering from a rather nasty nightmare.
"What's wrong with her?"
Neria sighed, feeling pity for the woman on the bed. "A number of factors, really. Monster feeding time for the bandages, black magic withdraw for the shakes, and the fear that her friends won't forgive her for the overall sense of apprehension. Not to mention that energy from the Hellmouth isn't helping to sooth her transition back from the edge. Sort of like setting a junkie into a heroine snow storm and asking him not to breathe."
"That doesn't exactly explain what happened."
"What do you want me to say? We could stand here forever and I could detail all the reasons why things turn out the way they do. But I won't 'cause it all comes back to the same thing, the Hellmouth. You know what it is like, evil will never stop coming and people get hurt. People will get hurt."
"Willow?"
"Who's to say? All I know is that some of the Sunnydale folks won't be around to see another green Christmas."
Oz's imagination was uploading volumes of scenes into his mind, guesses on what had happened while he was gone and what might be yet to come. Some were somewhat close to reality and some were elements of his worst nightmares.
"Say goodbye, time to go."
He looked at Neria in surprise. They had only just gotten there and now they were leaving? He had told himself many times that Sunnydale was his past and he was in search of his future. That gave him the strength to keep going and resist the pull of this little town. What if the only future for him was in Sunnydale, with or without Willow by his side?
"But-"
"Sorry, time to fish or cut bait," her voice strong, knowing it would be hard pulling him away from Willow.
She rolled her eyes at the stricken look on his face and felt herself weakening a little. "I'll give you a minute," she added and stepped away from the bed to give Oz a little privacy, feigning an interest in the books that lined the shelf.
Oz knelt by the bed so he could be closer but not touching. He didn't want to pass through her like all the other solid objects he had been pulled through tonight. It was just another reminder of how disconnected from her he was.
"I guess this isn't our blue-hair Istanbul moment, not even sure you can hear me." He whispered. "But if you ever need me for anything, to help you save the world or just play you a song, all you have to do is ask. I'll be there."
Neria cleared her throat, signaling to him it was time to go.
"Take care, Willow." He kissed the tips of two fingers and touched them lightly to her forehead. And then world was flipped upside down.
Neria had turned back to the couple when she had heard him say goodbye. She could see him about to touch her forehead and knew in an instant that this was going to be bad. Instinctively, she tried to stop him from making contact but knew that there was no way she would make it in time.
For one second, Oz was sitting by the bed and in the next, the last she saw of him was the bottoms of his sneakers as he was pulled inside Willow's mind. Neria's jaw nearly hit the floor and she was frozen in mid stride. Never in all her years, heck centuries, had she seen something like this. They were both in spiritual form so there wasn't anything tying him to this world. If she didn't do something soon, he could be lost in there for a long, long time. Panic was spreading through her and she knew that things had gotten very complicated, very fast.
And to no one in particular, she swore. "Oh, balls!"
End of Part Three [A/N: Sorry it is so short. Figured I had waited long enough and had to add something.]
Oz took the stairs as slowly as humanly possible. Granted he could have crawled or refused to leave the first floor but figured it wouldn't help to act childish about the whole thing. He had some pride.
Neria was lounging against the wall filing her nails. If she was annoyed by the guitarist's slow progress, she didn't show it. This was the first time in ages she had had a few minutes to herself.
"Are you a demon?"
"What?!" she responded a little breathlessly. It wasn't often she was taken by surprise.
"You said you worked for Satan. What are you?"
Neria, not looking in his direction and taking a great interest into a pesky hangnail, choose her words carefully. "I was born human. And then I died. And then I became what you see." She tucked the nail file in a back pocket and defiantly folded her arms in front of herself. "Anything else you would like to know?"
"Why work for Satan? You could be helping people."
"I help people in my own special way. Why all the interest?"
Oz shrugged his shoulders. "You just don't seem that evil."
"Thanks for the job evaluation; that information will help us serve you better." Neria wrapped her arm around his shoulders and steered him towards the door of the room she wanted him to see.
"That's Buffy's room?"
"Ooohhh, realllly . . . . and how would a good boy like you know something like that? Hmmm?" her voice took on a new level of teasing, her smirk filling in the blanks of a story that never took place.
Oz refused to take the bait. If he could resist Devon's constant requests for details on his sex life, he should find this a cake walk. A shrug was all she would get out of him.
With a disappointed sigh, she pulled the guy through the door. The room was rather dark, lit by only a nearby street light. The walls were bare of any personal effects and only a large suitcase littered the floor. On the small bed at the end of the room, a small figure was curled up in a small ball, shivering and twitching because of some dream or nightmare. Even if Oz was blinded some freak occurrence, he would recognize her distinct smell. That scent made him feel like he had come home. Come home to Willow.
"You don't seem all the surprised to see her?"
"Surprised you didn't drag me here first."
Neria gave that smug grin again, "Hey, I don't tell you how to play guitar, you don't question the master. It is all part of the grand plan."
Willow let a little whimper and rolled onto her back, displaying the bandages on her abdomen. They were turning pink where some blood had started to seep through and Oz approached the bed to get a better look. He frowned, feeling strongly helpless.
Neria stayed at the foot of the bed but made sure she kept a good view of her charges' face. First lesson learned in this business was 'Always watch the face.' It was the easiest way to tell if you were making progress. "You can blame that on Gnarl, nasty little demon." She said and shivered.
"Gnarl dead?" He hoarsely whispered, not able to look away and starting to feel the burning seed of hatred. If it wasn't dead, Oz was planning on using every ounce of the monster inside of him to hunt and kill whatever it was that dared hurt his Willow.
"Yeah and good riddance, that creep really gave me the creeps."
He looked up and had to raise an eyebrow at that. "Satan's Little Helper freaked out by a fellow evil doer?"
She narrowed her eyes and looked genuinely insulted by that comparison. "Gnarl was a monster. It would take hours to peel stripes of skin from its victim's bodies, eat those pieces and then wash it down by licking up the blood. All the while with a running diatribe on how worthless of a person you are. If I was going to eat you, I would make sure you enjoyed it a whole lot more. Are we clear?"
"Translucent."
"Good."
Oz's eyes were drawn back to the bed, surprised to see the changes time had left in Willow. They weren't big changes, little things most people would not be able to notice at first glance. But her face was burned into his memory and on more than a few lonely nights, her memory was his only companion. He knew it wasn't really the healthiest way to go through life but until he found an alternative, it was all he had.
Superficially, he noticed that her hair was longer but that was hardly noteworthy. Even though asleep, Willow's body was tense and almost afraid to relax. Her mouth was drawn in a hard line and her eyes were bordered with faint worry lines. A light dabbling of perspiration dotted her brow but she shivered as if cold. Also, it looked as if she was suffering from a rather nasty nightmare.
"What's wrong with her?"
Neria sighed, feeling pity for the woman on the bed. "A number of factors, really. Monster feeding time for the bandages, black magic withdraw for the shakes, and the fear that her friends won't forgive her for the overall sense of apprehension. Not to mention that energy from the Hellmouth isn't helping to sooth her transition back from the edge. Sort of like setting a junkie into a heroine snow storm and asking him not to breathe."
"That doesn't exactly explain what happened."
"What do you want me to say? We could stand here forever and I could detail all the reasons why things turn out the way they do. But I won't 'cause it all comes back to the same thing, the Hellmouth. You know what it is like, evil will never stop coming and people get hurt. People will get hurt."
"Willow?"
"Who's to say? All I know is that some of the Sunnydale folks won't be around to see another green Christmas."
Oz's imagination was uploading volumes of scenes into his mind, guesses on what had happened while he was gone and what might be yet to come. Some were somewhat close to reality and some were elements of his worst nightmares.
"Say goodbye, time to go."
He looked at Neria in surprise. They had only just gotten there and now they were leaving? He had told himself many times that Sunnydale was his past and he was in search of his future. That gave him the strength to keep going and resist the pull of this little town. What if the only future for him was in Sunnydale, with or without Willow by his side?
"But-"
"Sorry, time to fish or cut bait," her voice strong, knowing it would be hard pulling him away from Willow.
She rolled her eyes at the stricken look on his face and felt herself weakening a little. "I'll give you a minute," she added and stepped away from the bed to give Oz a little privacy, feigning an interest in the books that lined the shelf.
Oz knelt by the bed so he could be closer but not touching. He didn't want to pass through her like all the other solid objects he had been pulled through tonight. It was just another reminder of how disconnected from her he was.
"I guess this isn't our blue-hair Istanbul moment, not even sure you can hear me." He whispered. "But if you ever need me for anything, to help you save the world or just play you a song, all you have to do is ask. I'll be there."
Neria cleared her throat, signaling to him it was time to go.
"Take care, Willow." He kissed the tips of two fingers and touched them lightly to her forehead. And then world was flipped upside down.
Neria had turned back to the couple when she had heard him say goodbye. She could see him about to touch her forehead and knew in an instant that this was going to be bad. Instinctively, she tried to stop him from making contact but knew that there was no way she would make it in time.
For one second, Oz was sitting by the bed and in the next, the last she saw of him was the bottoms of his sneakers as he was pulled inside Willow's mind. Neria's jaw nearly hit the floor and she was frozen in mid stride. Never in all her years, heck centuries, had she seen something like this. They were both in spiritual form so there wasn't anything tying him to this world. If she didn't do something soon, he could be lost in there for a long, long time. Panic was spreading through her and she knew that things had gotten very complicated, very fast.
And to no one in particular, she swore. "Oh, balls!"
End of Part Three [A/N: Sorry it is so short. Figured I had waited long enough and had to add something.]