But For the Grace of God
Part 3
The revelations afforded to Willow due to her library time with Giles left her stunned. All manner of things that she had believed to be fictions, and unpleasant fictions at that, were actually truths hidden beneath lies created by the human race to retain its sanity. She definitely understood why this was so easily accepted by people – even now, knowing what she did, she didn't want to know, didn't even want to think about it. To go back to her simple life of homework, computers and Xander would have been the ideal of utopia for her.
Except for now Xander was gone.
Giles had tried to be positive about the situation, noting that the fact that Xander's body had not yet been discovered meant that there was still a chance that he was alive. But Willow wasn't stupid. The longer he was gone, the less likely it was that she would ever see him again, and though his words were optimistic, Giles' attitude was not encouraging.
Now that she had the information, though, she wasn't very confident about what she could actually do about it. There was no way that she could fight these monsters on her own – even if she managed not to simply freeze up and scream her head off, she wasn't exactly renowned for her physical prowess. No, that would be this Buffy girl Giles had kept muttering about, who was apparently the "Slayer." Why couldn't have she been here, if she was supposed to be, Willow thought bitterly, then Xander might still be here. Safe.
Wishing wasn't going to make it happen, though. No matter how hard she wished or how much she wanted it Xander wasn't going to just magically appear and the truths about this world were not going to go away. Giles had sent her home, late, telling her to keep her spirits up and think positively, but she wasn't able to do so very well. A part of her even wished that she had not gone to the librarian because at least before, she had felt some hope. Ironically, now she felt none.
Her footsteps sounded hollow on the pavement as she walked home, hollow and alone. The night was uncommonly quiet, no dogs barking and even the crickets calm. Instead of being uncomfortable with the silence, however, Willow felt reassured by it, feeling as if she just walked long enough she would cease to hear only one set of footfalls and hear two, and she would look up and there he would be, quirky half smile on his face.
She felt a sob rise up in her, and sat down suddenly on the concrete of the sidewalk. Willow thought she might have cried more these past few days than in the entirety of her life, and the floods showed no sign of slowing. Sitting on the curb, her hands covering her eyes, she wept alone.
She was alone.
Alone.
"Excuse me…" a hesitant voice spoke up. Willow's head shot up, her eyes red, sniffling. The redhead from the library was standing there, his hands in his pockets, looking uncertainly at her. "Are you okay? I mean, I can see you're not okay, but…"
Willow pulled herself to her feet and wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve. "No, I'm all right. I just…just…" Her words were lost in another burst of tears.
"Hey…hey…" The boy – Oz, she thought his name was – patted her awkwardly on the back. "It's okay."
"It's just…just…"
"Hey, just breathe, all right? You don't have to talk." Oz's voice was soothing, concerned. Willow looked at him through a haze of tears and noticed the worried expression on his face. "Just try to calm down."
"I'm sorry," Willow hiccupped. She smiled weakly at him. "Just had a really bad week."
"Yeah, I know. I heard about your friends."
"Yeah."
"Are you going home now?"
"Yeah, I suppose I should." Willow blinked several times to rid her eyes of the last of her tears. "I should get home."
Oz hesitated, and then looked at her curiously. "Listen, don't think I'm trying to be too forward or anything, but you really don't look like you should be alone right now. I was just going to get some ice cream when I walked by. If you like, it would be real nice if you came with."
She saw through the lie easily – he was walking in the wrong direction to be going to the ice cream parlor – but suddenly realized that she really didn't want to be alone, and at home all she had was her confused parents who just couldn't understand what was happening. She managed another pallid smile. "Thanks. I don't know if I'd be great company right now, though."
He shrugged and gave her a crooked grin. "You'd be fine. If you don't come, I'll just have to sit and talk to myself, and believe me, the arguments that sometimes come up there are just not fun. I do have a pretty good shoulder to cry on – a little bony, maybe, but that shouldn't make it any less cry-worthy."
To Willow's surprise, she actually laughed at that – a colorless, quiet laugh, but it was the most she had managed in days. "Okay. Thanks."
"No problem." They started down the sidewalk. " I'm Oz, by the way."
"Yeah, I remember Mr. Giles introducing you."
"I wasn't sure. You didn't seem altogether, well, you know, there."
"I've had a lot on my mind." She sighed. "Even more tonight."
"Want to talk about it?"
"Maybe." Giles had told her to keep quiet about much of what she had learned tonight. She hadn't needed a whole lot of encouragement to do that, remembering how she would have treated anyone who had started talking about vampires and demons walking around Sunnydale. She would have thought they were grade-A nut balls. "Right now I think I would just like a double chocolate mocha shake."
Oz looked impressed. "Wow, you really like the hard stuff." He smiled at her. "Double chocolate mocha shake it is, then."
OoooOoooO
Watching Willow and this boy – Oz, he'd heard him name himself – Xander felt a surge of hatred and hot jealousy. He had followed Willow home from the library, staying far enough behind and hiding in the shadows so that she wouldn't detect him. He didn't want to reveal himself to her quite yet. There was so much he wanted to share with her, to be impatient could ruin it all and lessen the enjoyment of everything.
This Oz, though. What was he doing with her? Without knowing it, Xander's features slid into their true form and he growled deep in his throat. Willow was his. Whoever this brass boy was would have to be dealt with. It was only a matter of time before he and Willow would be together again, and Xander wanted no unnecessary complications.
There would be time for all of that later, however. When he had awoken earlier, one of the Monster Minions – they had been none too pleased when he had called them that to their faces, but the Master had found it quite amusing - had taken him to the Master, who had been curious about the progeny his late favorite had sired. His grief over Darla had made him embrace Xander – a stroke of luck that Xander was definitely going to take advantage of. He himself had felt little pity for the vampire who had died moments after making him, but at the Master's request had agreed to hunt down her killer and bring him to the lair. It would get that pathetic wretch off the streets, for one thing, but more important to him it would curry favor with the Master. And though he was newly risen, Xander knew how exactly how valuable that was.
He walked slowly down the street, feeling the cool whispers of the breeze caress his skin. He really didn't know where to begin looking for Angel, but if he was a friend of Willow's, then following her would probably lead him right to the renegade vampire. Which meant for now his interests coincided perfectly, which suited him just fine.
Turning the corner, he spied his house half a block down. The lights were on in almost all the rooms, including his. His mother had probably been spending time in there. He smiled. They were home, then. He walked across his yard, his acute ears picking up the sound of the television in the living room showing some sort of sports game and the sound of the water running in the kitchen as his mother did the dishes. The steps creaked under his weight, loud to him but probably unnoticeable to his parents inside. Stopping at the door, he let his features smooth into their human mien again, looked through the small window and took in the familiar scene – his dad sprawled on the couch, a drink on the end table next to him, half asleep as he watched the game. His mother he couldn't see, but could still hear her straightening up in the kitchen.
Xander knocked.
"Hon, could you get that?" His mom called from the kitchen. On the couch, his dad just grunted.
"Are you going to get that?" She repeated.
"There's only 12 seconds left on the clock. You get it."
His mother's exasperated sigh reached Xander. "Fine."
Click. Click. Click. His mother's shoes always made that noise on the tile floors of their house. The lock slid back and the door opened.
"Ye…"The words died in her throat. "Xander?"
"Hi, Mom." He felt a quirky one-sided grin spread on his face. From across the room, his father clamored rather awkwardly to his feet and headed for the door. "Hi, Dad."
"Xander, where have you been?" The tone his mother used was a blend of relief, anger, and confusion. "We've been worried sick!"
"Sorry." He knew he didn't sound it. That was okay.
"Sorry's not good enough, boy." His dad said darkly. "What the hell were you thinking? Where the hell have you been?"
Where the hell, indeed, Xander thought, and almost laughed out loud. "Its kinda a long story, Dad." He looked from his father to his mother, who together were blocking the entrance. "Are you guys going to let me in, or what? I'm sorry, okay, but I'm really glad to be home."
The elder Harris backed away from the door. "Get in, then. But don't think this conversation is over, Alexander LaVelle Harris. You can't treat your mother and I this way."
Xander stepped over the threshold. "I promise I won't take off again without telling you guys. I know it wasn't very fair."
"Into the kitchen, Xander. We need to talk. You are going to be grounded for the rest of your natural life." His dad headed towards the back of the house.
Again, Xander had to suppress a laugh. This whole thing was just so much damn fun. "Okay, dad." He followed closely behind his parents.
His mom headed for the fridge when they entered the kitchen. "Sit down, young man. I don't know where you've been, but I'm sure you haven't been eating well. Are you hungry?"
The vampire smiled. "Very."
OoooOoooO
Willow surprised herself again by actually enjoying her ice cream with Oz to some degree. He was funny, smart and very empathetic, not pressing her about Xander or her earlier crying fit. He told her a little bit about the band he was in, Dingoes Ate My Baby, which she thought was a pretty cool -if a little morbid -name. She talked a little bit about her computer interests, and was pleasantly surprised to notice his own interest. It turned out he was a bit of a computer whiz in his own right. For the first time in days, she was able to put the horrible situation to a back burner in her mind and feel normal again.
It was nice.
She returned home a little later than usual that night, but her parents weren't too upset. Willow was glad for that. The fragile calm she had reached could be shattered by just about anything, and she just hoped that it would last a little while. She couldn't help feeling a little guilty about enjoying herself, though, knowing that somewhere Xander could be hurt or even dea – no, she would not let herself think it. She would not.
Sleeping the first real sleep she had in days, she was unaware of the visitor who watched her from outside her window. The moonlight cast his shadow over her, veiling her face in darkness as she breathed slowly in and out, her face softened by dreaming. The shadow remained there for hours, stretching across the room as the moon sank into the earth, only leaving when the first purple streaks began to lighten the horizon.
Willow dreamed on.
The sorrow Giles felt for the girl Willow was heartfelt, and he hated giving her what he truly believed was false hope. He just couldn't bring himself to leave her bereft of it. Xander Harris was probably dead; he knew…that, he might have been able to tell her. But he didn't think he could have told her that Xander might have been turned himself. She was a smart girl, he knew, and she probably would think of that possibility, but to actually say it out loud would give it substance. The poor girl didn't need any more to think about. She had gone through too much already.
There had been no word from the Watcher's Council since that fateful call. He wondered if Donovan had finally managed to persuade the Council to his point of view, then decided it honestly didn't matter. He was going to have to end that part of his life now. Sunnydale need someone who knew of the dark forces at work here, even if it was a poor champion such as himself. When the Council called him back – as they no doubt would – he would simply decline. Until then he would wait.
"Hey."
Giles looked up to see Oz standing there. He had been so engrossed in his personal thoughts that he hadn't even noticed him. "Oh, hello, Oz. I almost forgot about your test."
"That's okay. Honestly, if you want, we can forget about it altogether…"
"Well, Ms. Peters might not be too happy about that."
The boy sighed. "There is that." He nodded resolutely. "Okay. Bring it on."
Giles handed him the test, and glanced at the clock. 3:20. He had hoped that Willow would be coming back in today, but it was looking less and less likely that she was. She probably needed time to digest all that she had learned yesterday. He hoped she would return, though – she had just enough information now to be frightened but not really enough to protect herself. If he could, at least he might be able to save one life in Sunnydale.
"Done." Oz passed him his exam sheet.
"Already?" Giles was a little surprised.
Oz shrugged. "Math's easy." He grabbed his bag and started heading out the library. "Later, Giles."
"Um, yes. I'll see you later, Oz."
Willow had been pacing outside the library for almost five minutes, wavering on her decision to talk to Giles and try and learn more about what she was facing. She didn't want to go in there, and possibly find out even more terrible things than the night before, but she knew that eventually she would – not knowing what these things were could be even worse.
She was just about to push open the door when it swung out towards her, knocking her to the ground in a graceless heap. "Ouch." She said, rubbing her forehead.
"Oh, geez, sorry!"
Looking up, Willow saw Oz standing above her, a chagrined look on his face. "I'm so sorry, Willow! I didn't know you were there."
Standing up, she shrugged. Dizziness receded. Good. "Its okay. You didn't do it on purpose."
"I know, but…"
"No, really, I'm all right."
"You sure?" Again, he had that same concerned look on his face as the night before.
"Yes." Maybe this was fate. Maybe it was telling her to stay away from Giles and all of the forbidden wealth of monstrous knowledge he offered. "I'm gonna have a little headache, but other than that I think I'll be fine."
"Okay." He paused. "Do you need a ride home? 'Cause if you do, you can catch a lift with me."
Willow shook her head. "Oh, no, that's okay. I'll be fine."
"Come on," pleaded Oz. "At least then I can pretend that I'm a nice guy and that I tried to make it up to you the next time I see you with a large blue egg on your forehead."
It would be nice to get a ride – her head did hurt. And suddenly she really didn't want to speak with Giles again. "Okay. Thanks.
"No problem. My van's just out in the parking lot."
They made small talk on the ride to her house, which didn't take too long. When they arrived, Willow didn't leave the van right away. "Oz, I wanted to thank you. For last night."
"Hey, no problem." Oz seemed a little embarrassed by her confession. "You looked like you needed a friend."
How true that is. "Still, thanks for, you know, giving me pity-party time."
Oz held his hand up to stop her. "Whoa, whoa. You think I stuck around just out of pity?"
She didn't want to answer that, but finally decided truth was best. "Well, yeah. I mean –"
Not letting her finish, Oz interrupted again. "Sorry to disappoint you, but it was purely selfish. No martyrdom for me."
"But I couldn't have been very fun to be around. Really –"
He wasn't going to let her continue again. "It was great. You're a really amazing girl." His face went red, matching his hair. "I really liked spending time with you."
Wonder of wonders. Was she hearing this right? A boy – a cute, intelligent, nice boy – liked spending time with her? Maybe she should have her hearing checked.
"In fact," Oz went on, "I was kinda hoping you would, well, want to go out to dinner tonight."
What? Dinner? What was that? "Dinner?"
He smiled. "Yeah, dinner. You know, that thing where you sit down, eat food, digest it and get nourishment from it? Some find the experience pleasurable with other people."
"Um, yeah." Could she sound any lamer? "Like, a date?"
"Date's a strong word." His voice was cautious. "Do you want to go on a date?"
Yes! She immediately thought, then Xander's face floated in her mind. "I don't know." She said, suddenly deflated. "I don't know if I'm really up for that."
Oz nodded. "Okay. I understand." He sounded disappointed.
Willow bit her lip. "But I am hungry." She suddenly blurted. "Are you?"
A slow smile spread across his face. "I am."
"Well, then, if you're hungry, and I'm hungry, it makes sense that we should eat, right?"
"Right."
"It wouldn't have to be a date, just a two-people-eating-in-relatively-the-same-area activity."
He actually laughed at that. "Sounds great."
"Okay then."
"Okay."
They ate at a little Italian restaurant on the edge of town that had excellent manicotti, by Willow's taste. Her conversation was a little more animated than the night before, and Oz seemed to really enjoy himself. She did as well. She felt very comfortable around him, and for a while she was almost able to forget about vampires and demons and Xander being missing.
Almost.
End of part three
