As promised- A long (er) chapter!
Chapter 8- Bonding time.
The cemetery was quieter than normal- especially in Sunnydale, but Oz didn't care. He had a stake and a cross in his coat pocket and really didn't want to be around anyone at the moment. He had been discharged from the hospital the week before but today was the first day that he had had the energy to go for a walk, and the energy to shake off his friends. He only had to turn around and there was someone there, enquiring on his well being. If he were honest, it was driving him insane.
He had reconciled with Willow a day after he regained consciousness but they had yet to discuss anything that had happened, though Oz knew that Willow was dying of curiosity. She had refrained from saying anything because she knew that it was very hard for Oz, and it had obviously hit her hard. She was also being very quiet and still upset over the whole Xander incident, which she didn't believe Oz had really gotten over (which he had).
His father hadn't returned from his business trip in Europe so Oz was staying with his Aunt and Uncle, who where deeply shaken by the whole incident. Jordy didn't understand, but he had picked up on the fact that his favourite (and only) cousin was 'feeling a bit under the weather' and had taken to asking Oz if he was going to die anytime soon, which didn't exactly help with cheering Oz, or his Aunt Maureen up. His Aunt petted on him like he was a baby and had taken to calling him on his cell phone every time she went out to do some grocery shopping, or drop Jordy to school or reluctantly attending her book club. His Uncle Ken was a bit better. He didn't coddle Oz, or fuss over him, or ask him that same question every five minutes ("Are you sure you're alright, pet?") but he did take off the lock in the spare room that Oz was staying in because he didn't truly believe that Oz hadn't wanted to kill himself.
Sunnydale was oddly quiet, and Oz had found himself making his way stupidly towards the graveyard. He knew that Buffy was patrolling, but she might be finished for the night, or patrolling somewhere else, or with Angel.
"Oz!"
On the other hand, maybe she was right behind him.
"Oz!"
He didn't turn around, but he slowed down enough to let her catch up with him. "Are you sure you're safe out of bed?"
"Buffy," he greeted, through gritted teeth.
"Sorry," she quickly apologised. "So what'cha doin'?"
"Walking," was his only answer. He increased his speed slightly, but Buffy didn't take the hint.
"Want me to come with?"
He paused slightly. He didn't feel like Buffy chattering at the moment, but he didn't mind her company. Plus, he probably wouldn't die with her there.
"I'll be extra quiet." Her eyes were pleading with him for some company.
"Sure."
"So where you going?"
He was quiet for a minute, concentrating on not tripping over a broken tombstone. He stopped walking suddenly and stood facing a tombstone.
"Here," he whispered.
The headstone was a creamy white colour, with ornate gold writing etched into the surface.
*~ Sarah Osborne ~*
1956-1993
Beloved Mother, Wife and Friend
Taken too soon, she will remain in our hearts forever.
Oz produced a single red rose from his pocket and laid it in front of the headstone.
"Is that your mother?"
"Yes."
She was silent. "I'm sorry."
Many people would have said, "You didn't kill her, did you?" and forced a sarcastic laugh, but Oz didn't. "Thanks."
They stood there for a while, in perfect statuesque silence, before Buffy patted his shoulder gently, and sauntered off. She patrolled the perimeter until Oz was ready to leave, and walked him home.
Buffy had never been a quiet person. She had always been attention seeking, and loud, and spoilt. But while walking with Oz, she had no desire to crack a joke or offer some pathetic attempt at sympathy.
No doubt he had heard it before.
Instead, she was happy to walk in a comfortable silence. Oz's mind was obviously somewhere else and Buffy thought it best not to disturb him. She had already seen his hands, which were stuffed in his pockets, and knew that they would take a long time to heal, especially as the full moon was not for a while.
They walked through the graveyard and Oz stopped at a house on Sycamore Drive. Buffy was immediately curious because she knew for a fact that his Uncle's house was on Blossom Lane.
"I have to get some stuff." Oz's voice startled her.
"Oh…."
"I live here."
"Really? Oh."
Oz smiled slightly and made his way up the driveway. "You can go if you want. My relatives live only a block away."
"Oh. You sure? 'Cause I don't mind waiting…"
"I'm sure. Go visit Angel or something. Willow said you have a Chem. test tomorrow so…"
"We have a Chem. test? Damn! See you later Oz!"
She was gone before Oz had time to blink. He turned around, opened the door and stepped inside. The house was quiet. Completely still. It managed to freak Oz out successfully until he had located the light switch.
The Hall was clean enough; the plants were dying but Oz didn't really care. The same could be said for the pile of mail on the carpet. The tap still leaked in the kitchen- something his father had never gotten around to fixing- and the familiar pile of dishes in the sink and decaying pizza on the breakfast counter provided an odd sense of security for Oz.
He trudged up the stairs and straight away made his way into his own bedroom. The bed was unmade, and his guitar lay propped against it. He itched to play it but his wrists were still bandaged. He gathered a few pairs of decently clean clothes from his wardrobe, a toothbrush and razor from the bathroom and sat down on the bed to take a rest. He stood up quickly again, his mind concentrating on a new task. Positioning his body, he grabbed onto a set of drawers against the wall and attempted to pull them towards him. Failing this, he moved around to the other side and pushed the drawers towards the other wall. It took him over ten minutes to successfully slide the chest over to the desired spot and when he was done he had to sit down again in order to catch his breath.
The carpet had been cleaned and cleaned after his 'accident' with a razor blade but the only way to be able to keep the carpet was to move the drawers to that area. Now that the chest of drawers was gone he could easily see the dark stain on the cream coloured carpet. He stared at it a long time, before he sighed softly and stood up. There was no point in dwelling on the past.
He was able to find a frozen pizza in the freezer and watched TV while eating. He called his Aunt and told her he'd be home in a couple of hours and contented himself by watching an old video of "Casablanca" he found in the bookshelf. It wasn't long before he fell asleep.
* * *
The door opening was what first caused Oz to stir a few hours later. The second was the sound of whispers and the third was the light that assaulted his eyes. None of these succeeded in waking him unfortunately and the only thing that did was a strangled shout of surprise. He jumped up, disorientated and confused. "Dad?" he croaked.
The man put his hand to his heart and took a deep breath. "My God, Daniel! Don't frighten me like that!"
Oz just stared at him bleary-eyed. "I'm sorry for falling asleep," he said, with a hint of sarcasm.
His father, not understanding his laconic nature waved the apology off with a "Just don't do it again."
It was then that Oz noticed the woman behind him. She was very beautiful, with long dark hair pulled into a bun and a thin, curvy body. A pair of dark-framed glasses were perched on her nose and she was wearing a navy suit.
"Hello," she said pleasantly, with a hint of confusion.
"Hey," was Oz's only response.
She turned to Oz's father. "I didn't know you had a son," she whispered, a bit too loudly. He laughed nervously.
"Didn't I tell you? I'm sure I told you. Why did you think we were here?"
"You told me-."
"I must have forgotten, what with the panicking and all!"
"Panicking? There was panicking?" Oz was intrigued. He had never assumed managing a tyre company to be one of the most exciting jobs, even if it was surprisingly profitable.
He didn't notice the look on Jack Osborne's face until he had begun to talk.
"Panicked? Of course I panicked! How would you feel if you were about to close a one million dollar deal when your secretary rushes in and announces that your son has tried to kill himself?!"
"Did you get the deal?"
"No!"
"Maybe you should sue the hospital," he suggested weakly.
"Maybe I should sue you!"
"I don't think that'd get you much. Y'know, apart from a bad rep. from the other guys in the inflatable rubber business," he said calmly.
Jack closed his eyes briefly. "Let's talk about this in the kitchen. Samantha, would you like something to drink?"
"No thanks, I think I'll wait here while you do the father-son bonding thing."
Jack snorted and followed Oz to the kitchen.
Oz was surprised when his father offered to make the tea, and even washed the cups, but his temporary calmness didn't last long. They sat in a tense silence for a long time, which was okay for Oz because he was happy trying to figure out how that brown stain on the kitchen wall had come to be.
"Why did you do it?"
His father's voice broke him out of his reverie. He sounded tired and weary.
"I've done everything I could for you. I bought you the stuff you need. I go to every PTA meeting; even the one's this year, when you should be in college. I accept your loud rock music every night because I want to let you express your creativity. Why did you do it?"
"I didn't."
"Daniel!"
"I didn't do it, okay. Maybe if you called the hospital before attacking me and saw that it was their mistake then we wouldn't be doing this pathetic excuse for a conversation!" He was getting angry now, and thoroughly sick of the whole mess.
"I did call the hospital, and I know you didn't cut yourself on purpose, but they said you've been taking something again and I wont take-."
"They said they think I took something, which I didn't. I only took what they force me to take every year!"
"Don't lie to me Daniel! I will not tolerate lying in my house!" He stopped talking and sighed loudly. The next voice he took on was in a much different tone from the angry tone he had just been using-Disgust. "What would your mother say if she knew?"
That was too much for Oz. Shouting was one thing but bringing his dead Mom into it was another. "I don't know Dad, maybe it's because she's dead!"
He stood up quickly, upsetting the mug of tea. He was visibly shaking with anger. "I wonder what Mom would think if she knew that you were bringing women home."
"She's just a work colleague."
Oz stared at him. "I always wondered how you managed to make so much money out of such a crap company," he stated. "How many of your bosses or their wives did you have to sleep with to become President?"
His father stood up as quickly and violently as he had. "Go to your room!" he spat.
Oz just left the room. "I'm staying with Uncle Ken. I don't think I can stomach the sound of you two getting it on right now."
The woman in question was still in the living room, watching the end of "Casablanca." When she saw Oz enter she jumped to her feet and extended her hand to him. "I didn't think we had a chance to properly meet. I'm Samantha. I've just been employed by your father."
"Oz."
"Pardon?"
"My name. Oz."
He shook her hand suspiciously. Her hair had somehow become undone from its fancy bun and cascaded over her shoulders in waves. Oz had to admit she was very beautiful.
"Oh! I thought you were talking about Australia for a minute!" She beamed at him. "I guess I'm tired."
Oz nodded in understanding. His father entered the room, running his hands through his greying hair. "Oh, are you still here?" he asked Oz, clearly surprised to see the two of them talking politely.
"I'm leaving now," he said, picking up his sports bag of clothes and shouldering it. As he unlocked the door, he heard Samantha ask, "So do you keep any of your products here, like in the garage or anything as sort of a reminder of the early days or something?"
She was clearly embarrassed and trying to make conversation.
Jack looked confused.
"Oh don't worry," Oz told her. "He keeps all his rubber in his bedroom."
And with that he exited, leaving a very angry father and a young secretary stifling a laugh.