Something Good
Title: Something Good
Author: Paige (The Manic Slayer, Queen of the F Word,
Phreaky Spice)
E-Mail: paigerz328@yahoo.com
Rating: PG (Language)
Summary: Faith gets a visitor.
Spoilers: Graduation One and Two
Disclaimer: They're Joss's. I'm just borrowing for
fun. Sue me, and you'll know about bleeding rocks.
Distribution: Ask first.
Feedback: Pretty please? I'll love you forever.
Author's Note: Basicly, it's later, the summer after
graduation. I also took some cues from Christopher
Golden's B:tVS novels, with the relationship between
Oz and the Rosenbergs. See what happens when I get
bored? I write character pieces.
Other Note: For Scott, Angel, and Niel, who told me it
was ready for the public.
===
He didn't know what had drawn him to Sunnydale's one,
sorely over used hospital. He'd been happy to leave,
that first time, when Buffy'd woken up from her coma.
That's right, Oz hated hospitals. Maybe, it was the
fact that he could always just see one of his friends,
bleeding all over an ER cot, or waiting for a stomach
pump. He'd seen some bad shit happen in this place.
He'd spent alot of time here, before Willow, before
his life got knocked on its ass.
She didn't look as bad as he'd made himself ready to
see. Of course, there were the bruises, the scars, but
Faith didn't really *look* like she was hanging onto
life by a thread. In fact, he'd seen worse, when Dev
had left practice drunk, and plowed into a tree. He'd
seen worse, when he'd dropped Willow off at home, and
come back to the hospital, after graduation.
That had started his visits. Of course, he knew he
couldn't come every day, but he stopped by, whenever
he could. Something in him knew that he couldn't
exactly tell Willow, or her friends, about this.
Vaguely, he wondered when they'd been downgraded to
"Willow's friends," or if he'd ever really considered
them his friends at all.
He wasn't like them, and he knew it. Oz had lived on
the normal "wild side," before hooking up with Willow,
and by extention, her friends. Maybe, that's what drew
him to this room, to this dark beauty, with the
wildfire in her eyes. He could still see it, if he
closed his eyes. She was beautiful, and it was more
than just her body. Of course, the mass of brown silk,
and the curves that were so conspicuous under her
usual leather, didn't detract. There was more to her,
though.
Maybe, that was it. The freedom he saw in Slayer, even
under her responsibility. She wasn't like the others.
She didn't let the vampire thing trap her, or consume
her. Yes, that was it. Oz saw a kindred spirit in the
woman, stretched unconcious in front of him. He wanted
his old life back, and he wanted her to be part of it.
Of course, he loved Willow. He wouldn't have done any
of this, if it hadn't made his little girlfriend
happy.
"Hey," he said softly. Oz was never much of a talker,
but he found himself opening up to the girl in the
coma. She didn't interrupt, didn't react, didn't
judge. "Well, I told you it was coming, right? The
whole 'What *are* you gonna do with your life?'
confrontation with Will? It happened." He felt his
fist clench around the arm of the chair. Damn the
Rosenbergs. Damn Willow for pretending her parents'
disapproval didn't matter to her. And, damn *himself*
for believing her. "I told her what I said... about
the band. Know what she said? She said it was a nice
hoby, then asked what I was *really* gonna do."
He shook his head. It had gotten worse from there, but
he didn't want to go into that. Willow had gotten
really condescending, and he'd called her some names.
He wasn't sure which one of them had been hurt worse.
Then, Willow had said something that cut him to the
core. She'd said she'd wished she'd seen this side of
him before they'd been together. Well, Willow used a
very un-Willow-like word for it, but that just made it
worse. He'd left her there, red-faced and shaking, and
come to Faith. He needed an ear. He needed to talk it
out, and know that he wouldn't hear how wrong he'd
been. He could tell himself that without help.
The shaking didn't stop with his head, and Oz soon
felt his whole body trembling with anger and sadness.
It was really over. He could almost cry. Almost. See?
Even Oz the unflappable had emotions.
The prone form on the hospital bed shifted. "Faith?"
he whispered.
"Nah..." came the cracked whisper, as the lids came
back from those glorious brown eyes. "Not 'til I get
outta this bed." She smiled weakly, coughing. Oz
smiled then. At least there was something good
happening. For a split second, he just looked at the
Slayer, then he wrapped his arms around her. She
moaned. "Hey... uh... Wolf Boy? That's a little
painful..."
He pulled away quickly, to see that she was smiling
gently, that spark he remembered twinkling in her
eyes. "Sorry about that," he said quietly, as he
pulled his chair closer. After a second, he had to
know. "How much did you hear?" he asked slowly.
"Enough," Faith replied. "She doesn't deserve ya
anyway," she added, tone quieting. It wasn't a
come-on. It was just a statement of what she saw as
fact. Turning her head was an ordeal, but she managed.
Soon, she was looking over, into Oz's blue eyes. She'd
always had a little more respect for him than the
others. He was different. More like her.
In that one moment, words weren't needed. Nothing was.
They both knew that unspoken thing the other was
saying so clearly. "So... They tell ya how long I've
got before they let me go?" Faith asked, breaking the
silence.
Oz shook his head. "Want me to find out?" At her slow,
almost imperceptible nod, he stood. "I'll come back
tomorrow," he whispered, kissing her forehead.
"Yeah," she nodded, smiling in that way that only
Faith could smile. "See ya," was the only farewell she
gave his retreating back.