[chapter 1]
"More bills?" a solemn Willow asked taking a small sip of her steaming coffee.
"Is there anything else?" Buffy responded with a shrug. She watched as a flicker of guilt pass over her friend's expression, knowing Willow was wondering if the blonde would bring up the subject of rent, or lack thereof. Pretending not to notice, Buffy went about pouring out what was left of the coffee into her mug and sat down to evaluate her financial position. If the redhead offered she would gladly accept a monthly rent anything would be an immense help, but she wouldn't press the matter.
Buffy would just have to go on feeling that twinge of resentment that the coffee that the witch was currently consuming was Buffy's coffee, the water she used for her showers was Buffy's water, and the bed she slept in was her mother bed.
"You got a late class today?" she asked instead.
"Yeah. I thought I'd do some studying here. And then I thought maybe we could go have lunch before my afternoon class." Willow suggested hopefully.
"Sorry Wills, I gotto go look for a job. Mom's life insurance isn't gonna last many more house payments and there's still a whole bunch of utility bills that have to be paid. Maybe another time okay?"
The redhead's face fell as her eyes guiltily darted to the bundle of bills that sat in front of the Slayer.
"O-Okay, I'll just… clean up then," she said putting her mug in the sink with the rest of the breakfast dishes, "Looks like hurricane Dawnie came through here this morning, leaving a path of destruction behind her as usual," Willow joked as she pulled on a pair of pink rubber gloves. She felt the need to lighten the tension she suspected only she felt hanging in the air and with a covert glance over her shoulder, her suspicions were confirmed; an air of indifference surrounded the blonde sitting at the kitchen bench silently reading through the mail.
Willow shook her head in mute disappointment and went back to scrubbing the mug in her hand under the scolding hot water.
Silence sat oppressively between the two as Willow shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, slowly rinsing the last of the plates under the tap. Buffy's languorously raised her eyes to stare at the redhead's back regarding her with a detached gaze as she listened to the fast water flow, vaguely thinking the way Willow was washing the dishes wasn't the most water or cost effective way of doing it.
Looking back down to the last of the letters in the bundle she had brought in that morning, Buffy found a personal looking letter with the words "Willow Rosenberg" staring back at her in a messy scrawl, a sticker from the post office telling her that it had been redirected to the Summers' residence from Willow's parents' house.
"A letter for you Willow," she said tossing it closer to the redhead.
Pulling of her gloves with a snap of rubber, Willow regarded the letter with a curious gaze as she wiped a hand on her jeans. She picked it up with a frown, distantly recognizing the handwriting but not remembering exactly who it identified and ripped at the seal.
Buffy silently watched the young witch as emotions flew across her features, finally asking who it was from when it looked like Willow had finished.
"Maybe you should read it," Willow offered instead, handing her the few sheets of writing before excusing herself, and heading upstairs with tears in her eyes.
Puzzled at her reaction Buffy went first to the final sheet of lined-paper her brow furrowing as she read the sign off note and her lips parting slightly in bewilderment. She quickly turned back to the start of the letter and started reading:
Dearest Willow,
I received your letter a couple of days ago, and I've only just rearranged my thoughts enough to be able to write to you now. Mom forwards my mail once every couple of months so I'm sorry for the long delay even though you probably forgot about me as soon as you had finished writing your letter. I wouldn't blame you if you did, we live in such different worlds now.
I know I'm avoiding the reason for writing, and the reason why it took me days before I could actually put pen to paper. It's hard, the whole situation, the writing to you like this. It's all so hard and I wish I were better at words than I am.
First off, I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for the funeral. Even if I had gotten your letter in time, I doubt I could have brought myself to actually attend the service; it would be like admitting she was dead, and I still can't believe it's true. Out of all of us, I knew, deep down, Buffy was the least likely of us to survive to old age, but there was always a hope, you know?
So when you wrote about Glory, Dawn, Keys, (it's confusing to try and separate what could be my real memories from the made up ones, I end up running around in circles, chasing my tail as it were. So I've decided not to scrutinise it too much, it'll just make my head hurt) it made me wonder how much I'd missed out on and what I've been doing since I left.
Not as much as you guys it seems.
Then I read your last paragraph Willow, the one about Buffy, the one that's now branded into my memory, I don't think I've ever had that feeling before or ever will again.
It made me think about the last time I saw the Slayer at work, it was probably only a blip on the radar of what Buffy had to go through the years, it was so long ago, and I guess a pretty insignificant event to the Slayer, but not to me. I think it was the first time I had actually understood what it was to live in Buffy's world, having been away from it for so long beforehand.
Do you remember it?
It's funny, I had fought along side you guys so many times, but I'd never really been the one that needed to be rescued.
My thoughts were whirling around my head as I read and re-read that last paragraph, I must've read it at least 20 times and it's only just sunk in as I write to you now.
She's really gone isn't she? There's no coming backs, no Xander to give CPR, no magical spell that can be done.
It's made me think Willow, it's made me re-evaluate my life and what's important to me.
You are.
I know we could never be together in the same way again, you have Tara now I know that, and I think I've only recently comes to terms with what that means. When I say that you're important to me, I mean all of you, all of what I left back in Sunnydale. You, Xander, Giles, Buffy. And in a way Devon and the rest of the Dingoes as well, you were the most important friends I've ever had and probably will ever have. I need you to know that. With Buffy gone, I think it's more important than ever that you know that, I just wish she was still around to tell her.
Her hands were shaking Buffy suddenly realized. The words were starting to blur as well, as old tears stung at the back of her eyes. The Slayer took a long steadying breath returning her eyes to the scrawled handwriting in front her, determined not to break down.
Both times I left Sunnydale, I've come to realize now was in complete selfishness, I knew it that last time I left, but I've had time to reflect and that first time, no matter how many times I tried to tell myself was for you as much as it was for me, was a delusion I had to keep me from feeling guilty about leaving you.
I can't deny the selfishness of my actions now, but in all honesty Will, it had never occurred to me that you guys would move on with your lives like you did. I think it's just a part of being human I guess, the world outside your own doesn't exist if you're not in it, or at least that's what I got from those few psych classes I turned up to. I know I said it all the last time I was there, but I need you to know that you never left my thoughts. I understand it was naive of me, but I truly thought you would be safer without me around. Sometimes we inflate our self worth I think, yeah, I had forgotten about the Hellmouth.
But she made you do that didn't she? Buffy was always around to avert apocalypses, scare away the danger with a flip of her dyed-blonde hair, keep us all safe at night. It was hard not to forget we stood just over the mouth of hell everyday.
Buffy and I were never close friends, we never did end up braiding each other hair and having pillow fights, I don't think we ever had a conversation longer than a couple of minutes, and those were always about things that go bump in the night, or, you. But life without her seems somehow a lot bleaker, and it makes me feel sorry for the people that didn't know her, I can't help but think they missed out on something special.
Buffy face flamed with the heat of her emotions as a quiet sob escaped her lips and silent tears spilled down the Slayer's cheeks as her earlier resolve quickly crumbled.
In his quiet way, with only a few words, Oz had made Buffy feel for the first time in a long time. "…they missed out on something special," did he really believe that? She had never felt special. Sure chosen, or burdened, even superior at times, but special?
Buffy closed her eyes and shook her head to clear her thoughts before continuing to read:
I have so many regrets Willow, a lot revolving around you, Buffy and the others, my biggest regret, is leaving at all.
So I'm sorry Willow, for the weak man I was and am, for leaving you and all of my friends when I could have taken your friendship for what it was and accepted what you were with Tara. I'm sorry for not being there for you when you needed me, and now I'm sorry for what probably is an intrusion.
I'm coming home.
Life has become. I guess complicated is the word I'm looking for, since I left Sunnydale. I've found myself longing for the simplicity of fighting evil that you know exists, fighting the monsters that have a face.
I'll be arriving back in Sunnydale in about two weeks from the date of this letter; there are a few things I still have to get settled here before I leave, otherwise I would be on the first plane to California. I know now that's where I belong.
You'll probably rather not see me when I arrive, or even afterwards perhaps, but I didn't want to surprise you with a sudden appearance and if we happen to pass each other in the street I hope you'll smile and not throw something at me.
Always
Oz
Buffy's eyes rose as she stared blankly into the space above the sink considering Oz's finishing words. He was coming back to Sunnydale, in if Buffy calculate correctly, under a week.
That meant she only had a few days to wait till she could tell the lycanthrope how much his words had unknowingly meant to her… and smack him over the head for the dyed-blonde crack.
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In the letter, Oz refers to the episode "Where the Wild Things Are."
I'm sure I didn't get the voice of Oz exactly right, but goddang that guy is hard, it's all bloody inner dialogue and what he doesn't say with that guy, hopefully I can get it a bit better with the scenes where's there's actual interaction between the characters.