Chapter Four

Xander was pacing.

Giles kept a weary eye on the teenager from his place at the table. "Xander, you're giving me a headache."

The boy glanced sharply at him. "Something's wrong. I know it is. I should have gone after her!"

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead tiredly. It was still sore from being knocked into the wall. He understood Xander's agitation; he was worried about Willow too but it wouldn't do any of them any good for him to go charging off into the night.

"Buffy should be back soon. Try not to wear a hole in my floor."

Xander shot the librarian a dirty look and slouched off to sulk on the steps.

There was uneasy quiet for a short time; both men too tense to talk unnecessarily. Xander couldn't get Willow's face, as she stared at the demon that had been Oz, out of his head. He clenched his fists. He was going to personally hunt down the vamps responsible for killing his friend and destroying Willow, he decided forcefully. He still couldn't believe that Oz was dead. The laconic, guitar-playing werewolf who he had once asked for advice on how to be cool. Xander felt a guilty twinge as he remembered how suspicious he had been of Oz when he first got together with Willow. A big part of that was jealousy he now realised, as he remembered the 'fluke' with an even bigger guilt twinge. But despite the bumps on the road and the jealousy that had flown both ways at points in the past, Xander had liked the quiet boy. He was a cool guy, a good person and he treated Willow with obvious love and devotion, that it made it impossible for Xander not to respect him. The two boys had managed to form a cordial friendship, with Xander often volunteering for Oz-watch when Willow couldn't make it. It had been nice to have another guy in the group, he acknowledged with pained sadness. He couldn't imagine what Willow was going through.

This night officially sucked.

He looked up abruptly as the library door swung open. 'Ah, speaking of no-good vamps…' Xander thought bitterly as Angel strode in. Giles stood up to greet the vampire, but Angel spoke before he could.

"Buffy not back yet?" he asked, eyes sweeping over the room.

"Uh, not unless she's added invisibility to her Slayer powers," Xander muttered sarcastically from the steps. Angel ignored him and turned to Giles who was cleaning his glasses with focused anxiety.

"No, uh, I take it you didn't stay together then?"

"We split up to cover more ground."

Giles nodded and moved away back to the books spread across the table. He had spent the last couple of hours furiously researching the Pyerli, in a futile attempt to occupy his mind and distract himself from the horror action replay that wouldn't stop running in his head. Oz's face…Willow's screams…

Angel cleared his throat awkwardly. "Buffy…told me what happened. I'm sorry."

Xander snorted quietly from the corner and didn't look up. Giles turned around but didn't quite meet his eye. He inclined his head in acknowledgment before quickly sitting down and burying his nose in the books.

Angel watched them for a moment before moving away to a dark corner to wait for Buffy. He was sincere in his words. He had always had soft spot for the shy, intelligent redhead, with her nervous babbling and determined courage. She was a source of such light and kindness. Angel loathed to admit that it was the reason he had been gunning for her when he was Angelus. The pleasure in ruining something so innocent was a hell of a rush, and it was an added bonus that her death would have fractured the group and crippled Buffy.

He knew what she meant to Buffy, to all of them. She had restored his soul; he owed the young witch a lot. Angel had seen and done a lot of terrible things in his long un-life. He had seen the faces of a lot of people confronted with their loved ones, who he had killed or turned into demons like him. It had thrilled him as Angelus; it sickened him as Angel. But being forced to kill the one you love was devastation unlike anything else. He'd seen it in Buffy's eyes. A humourless smile came to his face at the memory. Angel had empathised with the werewolf. He knew what it was like to have that darkness inside, knowing you could so easily hurt the person most important to you. Oz had been a good guy, from what he'd seen. He didn't deserve this. No-one did.

The doors opened again and three heads jerked up to see the Slayer stride into the room, her face worried and determined at the same time.

Xander immediately leapt to his feet. "Did you find Willow? Is she alright?"

Buffy stood in front of the table and faced all of them. "Yeah, but she didn't want company. She's safe though; I followed her at a distance and saw her get home."

Giles nodded, relieved. Xander relaxed a tiny bit.

"How was she?"

She looked at Xander and saw her pain echoed in his eyes. "As you'd expect I guess. Completely destroyed." Buffy's voice was small and her gaze dropped to the ground. "I've…I've never seen her like this. She's…" Buffy trailed off; the memory of Willow's sorrow still burned her. A grief she recognised well, she knew how far deep it could go. But even though Buffy knew better than anyone what her best friend was going through, there was nothing she could do to help her. Nothing would fix this. The feeling of helplessness swept over Buffy, shaking her to her core.

She felt Angel move over and embrace her. She folded into his arms and let him hold her, grateful for one moment when she didn't have to be strong. He stroked her back and Buffy allowed her feelings to overwhelm her for a minute; to soak in the true horror of this night and take comfort in her lover's arms. She didn't cry; there would be time for that later. Right now she was the Slayer and Willow's friend, and there was something else to deal with.

"Are you okay?"

Angel spoke low in her ear as he slowly released her. Buffy smiled in thanks and he understood her response. She turned back to Giles and Xander to see them looking uncomfortable. "Guys, I need you to tell me what happened."

Giles nodded solemnly and took off his glasses to compulsively clean them as he recounted everything he had witnessed since he re-entered the library. Xander chimed in his section of the story, taking care to emphasise how painful getting one's head smashed into a table was. Angel subtly rolled his eyes at the boy's whining.

"When I came to, Willow had…"

Buffy nodded as Giles finished the sorry tale. She looked at them both carefully and hesitated before asking her next question. The words clogged in her throat, but she knew she had to tell them. "Did...Did you know he bit her?"

"WHAT?!"

Buffy winced as Xander exploded. Giles looked slightly sick.

"He bit her?!" Xander was somewhere between outrage and self-loathing. He should have protected her. A vampire had fed on Willow. She'd been hurt and he hadn't noticed. It was his fault. He fell into a chair.

Buffy glanced at Angel, who was looking thoughtful.

"I didn't-I didn't see. I was out of it…" Xander was muttering to himself, his head in his hands.

Buffy swallowed the fear that was rising in her chest. "Giles, what I wanted to ask was…well, Oz is – was – a werewolf…"

She saw Xander sit bolt upright, his eyes wide. He hadn't even considered that horrifying twist. Buffy left the question hanging and looked to the Watcher who was frowning.

'Any bite or scratch…'

Giles tried to remember any relevant information from his vast knowledge to offer an answer. He dimly recalled reading something similar to this, but he was having a hard time concentrating. Frantic thoughts of Willow kept barging into his head and churning his emotions. Her broken weeping form flashed through his mind. She was already in so much pain; the thought of her having to suffer with a life-changing curse, another burden -- was unbearable.

"I-I'm not sure. I think…"

"No."

Everyone turned to the firm voice that had interrupted.

"Angel?" Buffy took a step towards him.

He looked at her with a small smile before addressing the group, who were waiting with impatient attention for further elaboration. "Oz was a vampire when he bit her. He was technically dead. The lycanthropy curse can only be passed on when the infected is alive."

Buffy felt slightly staggered by the relief that coursed through her. She had to restrain herself from throwing her arms around Angel and kissing him right there in the middle of the library. Xander had slumped back in his chair and closed his eyes.

"Thank god," he murmured to the ceiling. Willow wasn't cursed. She'd be ok. Well, as much as they could hope for.

Giles sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yes, yes that's right" As soon as Angel spoke, he had remembered reading that fact when he was researching lycanthropy, back when Oz had first been affected. "Yes, the vampire still caries all the effects of lycanthropy same as when they were human – a vampire werewolf hybrid if you will - quite terrifying in its own right. But the curse loses its ability to be transmitted when the body dies. Even if it is re-animated by the demon."

"I won't ask how you knew that," Buffy muttered to Angel as she briefly clasped his hand. They shared a private smile, before she turned back to the others. "What, what do we do about Willow?"

Giles looked up at her and then at Xander. "Well, I think we give her time tonight. She's been through a terrible ordeal. But I think you two should, should call round and check on her tomorrow."

Xander looked like he was about to object, but Buffy beat him to it.

"Giles, I'm not sure we should leave her alone for too long. She's worse than I've ever seen her…I'm worried about her."

Xander nodded in earnest agreement.

"I understand that." The Watcher looked into their concerned faces with empathy. "But it's late and you're all exhausted. She won't thank anyone for the company. Willow needs some time to come to terms with her loss. Give her tonight. She'll need us all in the morning."

Buffy frowned but slowly nodded. She remembered how she craved being alone after Angel. But at the same time, she was aware of what impulsive decisions people in deep grief could make. Just look at her; she'd skipped town for three months and went to Hell and back. But this was Willow. Even devastated she wouldn't do anything rash. Right? The lost look in her friend's eyes flashed through her mind. Buffy made a mental note to drop in on her at first light.

Xander was grumbling, but grudgingly agreed.

"Well, I think everyone should head home, get some rest. It…It's been a long night."

Xander laughed mirthlessly at the understatement. Giles bid them a subdued good night and disappeared into his office to gather his things.

"Walk you home?" Angel spoke quietly to Buffy, nodding towards Xander to indicate he was included in the invitation. Buffy smiled in gratitude, she wanted to make sure Xander got home safely.

"Thanks. Just give us a minute?"

Angel nodded and vanished silently towards the doors.

Buffy walked over to the boy who was getting up from the table. The two friends looked at each other for a moment before moving to grasp the other in a tight hug. They stayed like that for a long while; comforting and being comforted.

"She'll be alright," Buffy whispered into his shoulder.

She felt him nod against her.

"She has to be." Xander's voice was shaky, as he tried to make himself believe his words.

o0o

Willow lit the last candle and looked around. The flickering light from the two dozen flames cast eerie shadows in the dark room as they carved two interconnecting circles of fire that took up most of her floor. She had been forced to push her bed back and off to the side to create the space. She brushed the back of her hand over her flushed forehead, sweeping aside strands of damp hair. The frenetic preparation of the past few hours, as well as the overbearing heat created by the candles, was making her temperature run uncomfortably high. Casting a critical eye over the burning circles, Willow bit her lip in thought. She'd run out of her supply at sixteen and had to scrounge the remaining candles from around the house and even had to resort to tea lights. She hoped it wouldn't affect the spell. She looked down at the book in her hands and made a conscious effort to exhale fully.

The spell was old. Very old. It called on incredibly ancient magic, pulled on the very energy of existence that flowed through everything and demanded huge sacrifice from the caster. Willow knew this was recklessly dangerous, that she was messing with powers she had no clue how to handle. But she was more determined than ever; the sorrow in her heart wouldn't let her rest. If there was any chance…

She sat down carefully in the petal shaped space where the two circles of candles overlapped on her bedroom floor. The rough stone bowl sat calmly in front of her, patiently waiting. She picked up the photo from the spine of the book on her lap, softly running the pad of her thumb over the single face within, before sliding the picture into the water. This was going to require all her concentration. And then some.

Willow closed her eyes and drew in a long steadying breath, the tips of her fingers flexed around the thick gilded paper. There was no room for doubt in her mind anymore, every thought was focused on the task. On him. She knew what could happen to her if they didn't think her love was true; if it wasn't enough.

She opened her eyes and looked down at the pages before her and began to recite. The strange lost language rolled off her tongue with the fluidity of practice. The air inside the fire pulsed and swelled as it greedily soaked in every word. The electrifying buzz Willow usually felt when she performed magic seemed insignificant this time. She felt the air sting hot and freezing against her skin but she didn't glance away from the words. Fear tingled along the edges of her mind, but she pushed forward -- she couldn't stop now. She didn't want to. She was determined to see it through to whatever outcome.

Willow felt rather than witnessed the almost transparent tendrils slowly twist up and reach out from the circle, drawing in the unlimited energy from the world around her; the unseen power that held the fabric of reality together. The shimmering threads created a web that crisscrossed between each independent flame in a throbbing tangle of silvery sheen that converged into her small circle that balanced precariously between the two rings. As the spell continued to suck in that steady hum of existence, Willow was caught completely unprepared as other searching coils suddenly reared up, striking into her own body. She inhaled quickly, her eyes wide as the spell hooked inside her, attaching itself to her veins, her heartbeat and life energy. She gasped out the remaining words in shallow breaths.

She'd never experienced anything like this. It was beyond frightening. She became acutely aware of what kind of magic and power she was tapping into; how big her actions were, how desperate.

Willow may have been a witch, but she was still human and she was going to need a lot of help for this. The room was glowing stormy shades of violet and black; the edges of her bedroom seemed to bulge and distort, breathing in and out like a living entity. The flames billowed and hissed loudly around the circles. She fumbled to pick up the knife on the floor beside her.

She was going to have to make her case directly to the forces of love and death.

With a sharp wince, she drew the blade across her palm in a damp scarlet slice. Staring, she watched the blood run as it escaped through the fresh cut for a long second. The spell built and weighed down the air with raw magic around her; waiting. She blinked and her thoughts whispered one word as she placed her hand upon the water's surface.

The rich blood swirled down through the liquid in cloudy ribbons, over the submerged picture. She waited, unable to breath. 'Please…'

Then her eyes widened as she watched the water under her palm turn blood-red before sinking to an inky black. She couldn't see anything in the bowl; an endless dark tunnel. Willow jumped in terror as the fire that surrounded her shot up to the ceiling, crawling across it to meet above her head and enclose around her. The unbreakable magic that tied her life to the spell flared painfully. Willow cried out, doubling over, as her whole body was tugged forcefully. The room shrunk into nothing in the blink of an eye.

o0o

AN Hmm...Yes, I think I shall leave it there. ;)

Hope you enjoyed. I'm loving writing this, and I love hearing from you guys. Remember: Reviews = happy author = Inspiration!