She struggled to free her bound wrists, but her efforts were in vain. Green eyes snapping with an invisible electricity, the girl surveyed the crowd - those she thought she had known - who had damned her to this fate. On the girl's face was a mask, one no one dared to try and glimpse behind. A face hiding her real emotions, one that displayed a cool stare as opposed to the fear that threatened to choke her. As she looked into the glittering, eager eyes that surrounded her, not bothering to make eye contact, a single person caused her to suddenly focus. Eyes widening, the mask suddenly slipped, and she was revealed.

"I knew you wanted to tell me, in your voice there was something wrong, but if you would turn your face away from me, you can not tell me you're so strong."

* * * *

He hadn't wanted to come here. But some unexplainable force had drawn him to the edge of the crowd, made him join the others in the back struggling to catch a glimpse of what they had all come so willingly to see. As the sun briefly broke through the dense clouds above, the boy caught the flash of red hair through the crowd around him, vivid against the rough surface of the wood that it rested upon. Unwanted emotions rushed to his throat, and he struggled to breathe, his oxygen supply suddenly cut off. Her eyes, a moment ago staring blankly out at the crowd, suddenly met his, and he saw the fear that lurked below their surface.

"Just let me ask you of one small thing, as we have shared so many tears, with fevor in our dreams we planned a whole life long now are scattered in the wind.."

No. He had promised not to get involved with her again. Not after what she'd done to him. Not after what *they'd* done to him. The first time he'd been able to forgive her. After all, she'd claimed that she knew what she wanted. So he had foolishly believed her. Believed that the episode in the factory had been some crazy fluke. And life had been good again. Or so he'd thought. The boy shook his head in disgust and absently clenched and unclenched his hands, remembering that day again in his mind.

He'd been in the stacks, looking for some book or another, when he'd first heard the voices. Realizing that one of them belonged to *her*, the boy had started to step out from behind the shelf that hid him, when he had heard a second, deeper voice. Not in the mood to talk to her companion, he had stood his ground among the musty volumes, just listening to their conversation. Their words on school fell on deaf ears as he scanned the book bindings, until one phrase caught his attention and he froze. He held his breath as a girls voice interrupted, and waited for the words that he was sure were next.

But they didn't come.

Finding that breathing was suddenly a painful action, the boy recalled stepping quietly out from his place and into the open. Seeing his slight frame before the other with her, Willow had gasped and pulled away from the brunette, eyes wide with guilt. The werewolf had just stood there, looking from one figure to the other, and then turned abruptly and headed for the door. She had caught up to him, but he ignored her words, her touch, and as hard as it was, her tears. And that was when he left. For good. Because the very thought of her made him sick, and he just couldn't bear to be around her, around *them* and still live.

Later on, he'd heard about her every now and then, how she's graduated at the head of her class Senior year, and how her hold on witch craft had gotten stronger over time. It was the later that had been her down fall in the end, though. The boy remembered reading the public announcement in the paper, and had unwillingly surfaced in the town again to witness the witch's fate.

"In the terms of endearment, in the terms of the life that you love, in the terms of life that pass you by.."

Brushing the memories aside, Oz quickly broke eye contact and turned on his heal to leave, walking slowly away from the mass of people. Hands in his pockets, he had almost reached the edge of the square when he heard the familiar scream. Hesitating, the guitarist tried to shut the noise, high pitched and panicked, out of his mind. She wasn't a part of his life anymore - why should he let her in again?

"In terms of the reasons why, through the years I've grown to love you, though your commitment to most would offend.."

And then, his acute senses picked up the crackling noise. Confused, he looked back to the scene playing behind him. The bright flame of the torch flickered against the cloudy sky, and suddenly, Oz knew what he wanted. Before his mind could react, the boys body threw itself back into the crowd, and he blindly began to push himself through the sea of people, trying to shorten the distance that he had purposely put between himself and her.

"But I stuck by you holding on with my foolish pride, waiting for you to give in.."

* * * *

Any sense of calm that the girl had felt before was now lost as she glanced frantically around. The flame held in front of her was making it painstakingly difficult to view the crowd as a whole, and she kept on losing sight of his red hair.

*I won't panic*

If he'd just stayed a little longer, I could have explained to him...he would have seen the truth..Unneeded thoughts crowded into her head as she remembered that day again in her mind.

She had been looking for her Trig book when he had rushed up to her locker, claiming that he had to show her something in the library. Triumphantly holding up her lost book, she had agreed. Following her best friend through the double doors and into the musty room, she'd kept up a constant flow of school chatter until he'd placed both hands on her shoulders. Confused, she remembered stopping mid History assignment as he told her that Cordy wasn't who he wanted - - she was. In disbelief she'd stood there, her mind still numb. And then he'd kissed her. Hard. Still trying to process the bull that he'd just fed her, the girl let him for only a moment, and as she rose her hand to push the boy away she'd seen the other man in her life step out into the open.

Not believing what was happening, the Wicca rushed to the werewolf's side and tried to explain the incident that had just taken place. Tears welling up in her eyes, she tugged on his shirt, she begged and pleaded with him to listen. And then she's let him go as he walked out the doors. What she hadn't know was that she was letting him go forever.

Later on she would here about him every now and then, how his band was touring around, and how they were becoming more and more successful as time went on.

Disgusted, the girl shook her head as she thought again of Xander and what he'd done. Take HER back? From that day on their relationship had faded, much like the bruise she'd created on his face, until both were gone completely. Willow still wondered that had Oz stayed hidden for just 30 seconds longer, had he seen her bitch her best friend out, then maybe he'd still be with her. Or at least nearby. Shutting the memories out of her head, the girl slid behind her mask once again and did the only rational thing that she could. Willow screamed.

"You never really tried, or so it seems, I've had more than myself to blame.."

* * * *

Her voice still ringing in his ears, the boy fought to close the last few yards that separated them. In his one track mind, Oz missed the men silently trailing him on either side. As he broke through the last chain of onlookers that separated them, it didn't register in his head that his feet were being knocked out form under him until strong arms dragged him to the ground. Struggling to rise, Oz caught one last glimpse of Willow. No longer were her eyes flicking to and fro, searching her out. Now they were still, fixated on the flame that was beginning to lick at the edges of her feet.

"I've had enough of trying everything and this time it is the end.."

The stench of singing straw began to mingle with the crisp fall air, and Oz was hit with the realization that willing or not, he was losing her - again.

"There's no more coming back this way, the path is overgrown and strewn with thorns.."

Their eyes met for the last time, green on blue, neither willing to be the first to look away from the other.

"They've torn the life blood from your naked eyes.."

The boy saw the girl struggling to ignore the heat that was slowly consuming her -

"Cast aside to be forlorn.."

And then there was a flash of light, accompanied by a deafening explosion..

"Funny how it seems that all I've tried to do seemed to make no difference at all.."

* * * *

The crowd of faces lifted their eyes to the sky and opened their mouths to the water that was dropping faster and faster from its great canopy. As a second clap of thunder sounded, Oz lifted his own eyes upward and blinked away the raindrops that were falling more rapidly by the second. People moved around him as the crowd scattered, looking for shelter from the downpour. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky, illuminating the now empty square. Free of his captors, Oz stood up and froze as the stake came into view once again. The figure was tied limply to the wood, her clothes blackened by the smoke and heat, hair plastered to her head. The werewolf took a hesitating step towards the girl, holding his breath unconsciously. Looking at the ruined hay at the girl's feet, Oz thanked the Hellmouth for it's strange weather patterns. He then moved his gaze up to the girl's face, willing it to move.

* * * *

Willow realized that it was raining before anything else. Seeing that she was standing in a puddle, the red head side stepped the water and looked up to see Oz standing in the middle of Sunnydale's lone square. Without even thinking, she ran towards him and wrapped her arms around his body.

"Oz! You! Here! Where did you.how are you! I.." Willow trailed off as she saw Oz shiver and take a step forward. Releasing her grip, she noticed that Oz wasn't even looking at her, but staring straight ahead.

"Um, Oz? Still here.what are you - oh." Willow followed the werewolf's gaze to the object that stood a few hundred yards away, and looked at the girl that was tied to the vertical piece of wood set in the muddy ground.

Taking in the figure's red hair and blackened clothes, Willow reached a hand up to touch her own fiery red hair before glancing down at her ruined clothes. Shaking her head, the Wicca threw herself in front of Oz and looked into his eyes, her voice high but unusually clear.

"Oz, it's me. You know.Willow. Your girl-" She felt her voice break as she started to say the last word, took a deep breath, and continued. -"Your friend. Can't you hear - Oz?" Willow's eyes widened as the boy pulled his jacket tighter around his body and continued to stare right through her. Willow moved to his side as he began to trudge forward, keeping pace with him as he made his way up to the girl.

"Oh, god..."

* * * *

Trying to keep warm from the sudden chill that the rain had brought, Oz reached Willow's limp figure and studied the waterlogged knots of rope that bound her. Pulling out his Swiss army knife, he began to worry at the first piece of rope that bound her body to the wood.

"Don't worry, Bab-" Oz felt his voice crack as he began to utter the word, then he caught himself. "-Willow. You'll be okay. We'll be okay." the lycanthrope stopped speaking as he noticed the slight object that she had clutched in one of her hands.

* * * *

Looking down, Willow opened her own palm to see a Pez witch lying there. Glancing back up, things suddenly clicked. As Willow looked up at the girl that Oz was slowly cutting free, she realized why the rain wasn't soaking through her sooty sweater, and why she couldn't feel the cold that surely accompanied the water logged ground.

She wasn't actually there. Or at least not in the living, breathing sense. She stood there, the rain falling around her, suddenly numb. Only now she knew the feeling wasn't from the cold.

By this time, Oz had succeeded in cutting down the girl from her post, and was slowly carrying the body across the muddy expansion of ground. Not knowing what else to do, Willow hurried to catch up with him.

* * * *

Oz felt as though his heart had been carelessly dropped. It now lay in millions of shattered pieces, glistening like the hot tears that slid down his face and onto Willow's still body. She couldn't be gone. Not now, not when he finally had her back again.

Having reached his van, Oz carefully placed Willow in the back, and, after checking that she'd be secure, hoped into the driver's seat. Angrily wiping away the tears that were beginning to blur his vision, he started up the engine and headed towards home.

* * * *

Following Oz through the front door of his house and then up the stairs, Willow wished that she could stop it. That she could wipe away the pain that had slowly spread across the older man's face, to smudge what she had caused. Glancing around the familiar room, Willow saw that not much had changed. His guitar lay against the far wall-

"E chord, diminish ninth. Now that's a man's chord."

-and hearing something crack beneath her foot, Willow lifted up her sneaker and saw what remained of a picture frame, broken long before her foot had met it. Turning it over, the Wicca took in the shattered glass covering the torn picture barley held inside of the four wooden walls. The red haired girl seemed happy enough, fingers intertwined with those of a boy with auburn hair. How simple things had been then, before their lives, like the frame, had splintered. Eyes fixated on the object clutched in her hands, Willow sensed rather then felt the tears begin to fall from her own eyes.

Not even bothering to brush the salty rivulets away, Willow wondered in the back of her mind how her tears were hitting the broken glass of the frame in her current state. Pushing the thought aside, Willow turned to the bed on which Oz sat, cradling the girl's body in his arms. Her body. Stepping over to him and looking down into her own eyes, Willow bit back a sob as she saw the werewolf's tears falling onto the girl's sweater and mingling with Willow's own in scattered pools along the fabric.

* * * *

He felt empty, as though he'd lost a vital organ.

"It's like I lost an arm, or worse, a torso."

Unable to tear his gaze away from Willow's cold, lifeless eyes, Oz wished that he could have a chance, just one more chance to talk to Willow, even if it was just to tell her that he was okay. With her and Xander. And to say goodbye.

Just one more chance.

But that chance would never come. Sighing, Oz continued to stare into the dull eyes, drowning slowly in their still depths.

* * * *

She couldn't take this anymore. Just standing around here, watching Oz slowly come apart. But where was she to go? She obviously wasn't supposed to be gone totally, or she wouldn't be standing in her former boyfriend's room, looking down at her reflection in the girl's face. More than anything, Willow wished that she could have a chance, one more chance to explain things to Oz, to know that she hadn't left him with nothing.

"Just one more," she whispered into the silent air as a single tear slowly tricked down her cheek and fell.

As if he'd heard something, Willow saw Oz's head snap up.

Then there was a flash of light, followed by a deafening explosion.

And suddenly, Willow was aware of how cold she was, and opened her eyes.

* * * *


The first thing that she noticed was that she was surrounded by a bright whiteness. Then Willow realized that she was looking up at the ceiling. Tilting her head to one side, the red headed boy from the picture came into view. He was looking away from her, out beyond the window pane across the room.

"Hey Oz."

* * * *

Her voice. Now Oz knew that he was truly going crazy. No one who was - he gulped - dead could talk. It just wasn't possible. Shaking his head, the boy then slowly lowered it and found himself face to face with a pair of bright eyes and a set of lips slowly forming a smile.

"Willow?"

God, he had to be hallucinating. Maybe it was because he believed that fact that Oz allowed her to place a hand on either side of his head and bring their faces level.

"Oz?" He heard her whisper, "I am so sorry."

And then he allowed her to kiss him.

It was short and sweet, but as each tasted the other, the action grew longer, promising things from the past, and for the future that seemed to be lingering just out of their grasp.

As they broke apart, Willow's eyes widened, but still held his gaze.

"Oh, Oz, it was so hot, and then you were there and I thought that I'd never see you again, and Xander and I were never together, we're not even friends anymore, and then you left - " Oz placed a finger on Willow's lips to silence her.

"You're supposed to stop me when I do that."

"I like when you do that."

"Willow," he said, brushing away the tears running down her face, then realizing that they were his own.

"I miss you."

She sat still, tensed, on the couch, waiting for him to continue.

"Like, every second."

"I know you've always loved Xander in your own way. And after things were straightened out about the fluke and him last year, I thought that your feelings for him were behind you. Behind us."

He took a deep breath and continued.

"But when I saw you two in the library, it was like I was back in the factory, only minus the Cordelia. And I couldn't deal."

"But - it wasn't.." Willow trailed off.

"I know. And I realize what may have happened, but I just don't know if I can go back to what we had. Some things, once they end, can never be what they once were again. It all depends on how badly they were broken in the first place."

Why was he doing this to her? Couldn't he see that she had suffered enough? Willow bit her lip and stood in one fluid motion.

"I just thought - " she stammered as she began to back away from the bed, "Oh, God, I can't - this is just - " Turning on her heel, the Wicca froze when she heard the boy's voice continuing, as though her movement hadn't interrupted him.

"And I was thinking I mean, am I good enough for you anymore?" He spoke to the silent air surrounding them, and turned his gaze towards where she stood, mouth slightly open.

"Oh, Oz you were always good enough for me. Too good, in fact. And I took advantage of that. Now, I just don't...don't know. Don't know why I'm here, and...and what to do." She looked down at her blacked clothes and suddenly realized how much she hurt all over.

"I just wish that we could put this behind us, and that you'd understand. what you saw. wasn't that. Meaning that that wasn't what you saw that day when you.saw.that.there.in the library."

" I don't know what I saw then, but-"

"No, damn it! Listen to me, Oz." Willow could feel the anger rising in her voice, anger that had been cooped up for what seemed like forever.

"Xander kissed me. And just because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, doesn't mean that what you saw was right. Do you even know what happened after that?" By now she was almost yelling. "You....you don't know anything! Why do you think Xander wasn't there today? Because he, like you, left?"

He had wondered about that. Tuning her voice out to think, Oz realized the truth in what she was saying.

"Well, Xander's still around. At least I've known where he was. But you, you don't even wait for an explanation to present itself, oh no, you just leave. If running away is your way of facing the problem, then you'd Oz?"

Putting his face in his hands, he was suddenly aware that the hum of Willow's voice had stopped. Looking up, he forced himself to meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Baby."

Her eyes softened, losing a bit of the blaze that they'd just held as she returned to the bed.

"You just need to realize that, while once some things *are* ruined and can't ever be as good as they once were, others have the potential to be better. It just depends on how much you want to fix it. To fix them. And I thought...think...that we can. Fix this."

Oz offered Willow a sad smile, and absently took her fingers into his.

"I'm willing to risk it," he said.

Her resolve face melting away, she allowed him to encircle her body with his arms and breathed
in his familiar smell.

"In the terms of endearment, in the terms of the life that you love, in the terms of life that pass you by.."

"Me, too." She whispered into his shirt.

"Me, too."

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