When she finally returned the next morning it was to find Oz tangled in the chains and shackles, his arm hanging unnaturally. He appeared unconscious. The clothing he still had on was soiled and torn. She slowly entered the cage as he began to rouse. Supporting his body with her own, she gingerly untangled and removed the chains, and eased him to the floor. She leaned him against the wall and bracing her knee against his chest, she used both hands to pull and manipulate the shoulder back into place. Oz let out a hoarse, muffled scream as it popped into place. The pain had helped to bring him more fully into consciousness. She helped him up and supported him as she walked him to the shower. She took a pair of bandage scissors out of her lab coat pocket and cut the torn clothing off, she then left as she went to bring him new clothing.

After he had showered and dressed, she opened the cell door and motioned for him to come out and sit in the desk chair. He hesitated, fear in his eyes, remembering the last time he had left the cage, but he obeyed. Neither of them had spoken since she had returned. After he had sat down, she propped on the edge of the desk, uncharacteristically not looking him in the eye, and finally broke the silence. "Are you able to fully rotate your shoulder?"

"Yeah." Oz demonstrated.

"We will need to put ice on it every three or four hours for the next couple of days, and a sling should help. It may take a month or longer for it to heal, and some stiffness may remain, but there are some stretches that should help prevent that. Have you noticed any other injuries or pain?"

Oz ignored the question; instead he looked up at her and said, "I'm sorry."

"What?" She said, taken aback. Shock finally forcing her to meet his eye.

"I'm sorry. I almost did the one thing I had promised myself I would never do to anyone on purpose. I wouldn't want that for anyone."

She looked at Oz a moment before answering. "I knew as soon as it happened that there was no danger, the skin wasn't broken, but I nearly killed you out of fear of what could have happened. Those chains could have wrapped around your neck... I am a psychologist and animal behaviorist, among other things; it's part of why I have this job. I should have paid more attention to the signs. I should have realized something like this was coming. My...colleagues and I spoke before I came back today and it was decided that we will take a break from any testing for the next few days. For both our sakes. As I have told you before, there is only one person who would take my place, and fortunately for the both of us they don't think it's necessary. They would prefer to see me continue on this project, at least for now."

Over the next few days she left Oz alone while she worked mostly on the computer and with the data and materials she already had. She played soft music on the computer as she worked something she had never done before. When she returned them to a more normal routine, they were both less on edge.

***

About a week later, she wanted to start back down a path Oz had fervently hoped she wouldn't approach again.

"Oz, it's time we talked about your emotional attachments and how they were affected by you being a werewolf; how you handled things, what was going through your mind at different times of your life after the change, and how that may have compared to your feelings and reactions prior to then."

"No. The physical stuff…that's one thing, but the other… I've already given you enough of that. I've told you what the change feels like, I've told you about the loss of control. There's nothing else."

"I need to know about your relationships; about your time in Sunnydale."

"You have all that."

"No," she said, tapping the top of the computer monitor," what I have are facts. It doesn't tell me how the events affected you and what effect you being a werewolf had on your actions, and the actions of others. I have some of that in the files, but it's not enough. It is third-hand and it is cold. I need to hear about it from you, judge your reactions; know what you felt."

"No, that's one thing you're not getting, you may be able to force the physical, but not this."

"Oz, is it really worth the fight? We've been down this path before. You never win."

"This time you'll have to kill me, because no matter what you do I'm not discussing that part of my life with you."

"Why is that, Oz? Always the stoic, never showing what you really feel. What are you afraid of?"

Oz ignored the questions, "It's not just about me, it's about my friends. They are none of you business."

"Your friends? What about your friends?" She asked her questions in an emotionally neutral, clinical tone, belying their charged nature. " I've already proved I know more about them than you do. When was the last time you talked to any of them? Did you ever contact any of them after you left Sunnydale again? After Willow made her feelings plain? You didn't have to take the path you took, not even then. They still cared about you, but you couldn't allow yourself any connections. Was it too painful, knowing Willow was with someone else? Didn't you think they might want to hear from you now and again, to know you were alive? What about your family? You completely broke ties with everyone you knew from Sunnydale. Why? Both times when you left, were you protecting them or yourself? Were you punishing yourself, or just acting the martyr?"

Oz clinched his jaw and turned away, still refusing to answer, refusing to take the bait, half expecting a jolt from the bands, but apparently either she believed he was willing to die, and he was, or she realized that the tactic wouldn't work. Either way she let the matter drop, at least for now.

A few hours later, Oz lay still on his mattress, facing the cement wall. She was right. He had cut himself off. He had no one else to blame. He had allowed himself to be taken in by Veruca. Until she came along, he had been managing the wolf. Not controlling it, no. At least not internally, but he had been protecting himself and others from the damage it could do. And he had had help. But, from the first time he had lied about Veruca, even the earliest lie of omission, he took the first step away from his friends; the first step away from Willow. And, if he were honest with himself, he knew that part of the reason was that he had been attracted to Veruca, beyond the initial literal animal attraction, was that when he was with her he was able to dampen down the shame he felt in connection to the wolf. That shame was something he had never admitted to anyone, not even Willow. They had always been supportive of him, never blaming him for the wolf's actions. Even the time they thought he might have gotten out of the library, they had blamed Xander, not him. Even he had been angry with Xander. But more than that, he had been terrified, afraid that he had killed someone. No one was willing to blame Oz, not really. They blamed the wolf. But Oz…he knew that even if he didn't have control over what the wolf did, the wolf was him, and he would have still been responsible for the deaths. And that was the first time he had truly felt the shame.

When he realized that there was now a part of him that he couldn't control; a part of him that needed to be externally controlled, by bars, chains, tranquilizers… He still remembered the shame of having to lock himself away in front of his friends in front of his friends, in front of Willow, during that whole mess with Debbie and her boyfriend. He still remembered the shame of knowing his friends had to watch over him those nights, not just to protect him, but to protect others from him. The shame of knowing that there were many nights Willow had to arrange her schedule to ensure that she could be there for him during the nights of the full moon.

He felt less shame when he was with Veruca, at least at first. And, at first, he thought she would understand the shame, only to realize that she felt no need for shame. It horrified him learning what she did, but he still was drawn to her. And, somehow, the two things became mixed in his overly-hormoned brain, and he thought he could stop her. Change her. He used that as an excuse to be with her. He didn't fool anyone but himself, and he hurt the one person he loved more than anything, the one person who had loved and trusted him. Then, instead of staying to work it out, instead of trying to get help from his friends, he took everything on himself and bailed. Never sending them word of where he was, or what was happening. Then, in his arrogance, he just dropped back into their lives, into Willow's life, even more suddenly than he had left, like throwing a rock into a still pool. Nearly killing someone Willow loved, and getting himself captured and tortured by the Initiative, which led to his being here, and this time there would be no rescue. No one knew he was gone, his actions had seen to that, they wouldn't even know for sure if he was still alive after he had left Sunnydale the second time.

The first sob hit him, racking his body, surprising him. With a gasping breath he caught himself, he wasn't able to stop the crying, but he was able to keep it quiet, his back still turned to the cameras that he knew were there. And the next morning, if She had known anything, or had seen any evidence on his face, she never said.