capeandcowllogs | half-moon, night sky (semi-private, complete)

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half-moon, night sky (semi-private, complete)

WHO: Briar Rose (Willow) and Oz.
WHERE: MAC lobby.
WHEN: Today. Approx. six o'clock.
WARNINGS: N/A as of now.
SUMMARY: Oz wants to talk to Willow. She's trying not to have a panic attack.
FORMAT: Para.

It was all happening so fast. Willow was curled up on her bed, exhausted and depressed. Then, she was suddenly talking to Ironman and being led to the MAC, an apartment complex specifically designed for super heroes. It was uncomfortable enough being treated like a specimen in a lab, but talking to a future version of Buffy and then...

Oz had just left. He said he had to go, whatever he had to do. Willow was not sure if it meant they were broken up, but an hour after he left, she was already missing his touch, his kisses, his scent, and everything about Oz that made him Oz. It felt like they were no longer together, but she held onto it as much as she could before breaking down into more tears and sobs.

That was before the City and suddenly Oz was here. He wanted to see her, talk to her, and Willow could not breathe.

She was waiting in the lobby, sitting on a stiff, leather couch that looked like it came out of a superstar's home. The weather was cold and she didn't have a coat with her on the way, so she was hugging herself, waiting, and resisting the urge to cry again.

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Oz found Willow without too much difficulty, though it was by her scent and not some innate sense of where she was. It was a small talent that came with his condition, and he'd chosen to keep it to himself. So far, it had really been useless except to make taking out the trash way more detestable and giving him an excellent idea of which apartment liked cooking what sort of food.

But here was a useful application. He wasn't sure if she'd be in her room or downstairs, but the scent led down, so that was where he went. He reached the bottom of the stairs and there she was.

She looked tired. Miserable, depressed. He couldn't think of the last time he'd seen her look so defeated.

He walked around the edge of the couch, studying her body language. Something was way, way off. "Hey," he said a little tentative. She looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole, not have a conversation.

There were footsteps and Willow did not know if she wanted to turn her head or not. If it was Oz, it would leave her with a wave of emotions she did not know how to deal with. If it wasn't, she would be met with part-time relief and dissatisfaction with a sprinkle of more anxiety. It was not a win-win situation for Rosenberg, so she shut her eyes tight, wishing for everything to go back to the way things were.

For a second, she almost thought her wish came true or her spell or whatever someone would want to call it. She heard Oz's cool voice, a little scared, but still there and she wanted to lean in, hold him, and never let go. But, when she opened her eyes, they were still in the MAC.

"Oz..." she whispered, turning to him. He was there, looking a little different, but in the flesh.

Before she could even get her thoughts together, her eyes were already tearing up and she could feel her voice breaking.

"Is that really you?"

"Yeah. Hey." He knelt down in front of her. "It's me, I promise. What's wrong?"

It had been a few days since he'd last seen her. Then, she'd been the same as ever--the same cheerful, awkward, sweet girl whose every move made him crazy. And now...something was wrong. That guess had been right, at least, though he wished it hadn't.

It was him. Her own knight in shining armor kneeling before her and wondering what was wrong. Her hands lay useless in her lap and her face said it all. Everything was wrong.

"You...you're here," she murmured. Of course, he was here. Ironman took people from all over the place. Buffy was here too, but Willow could not think straight. In her mind, her world, Oz was gone and suddenly he wasn't.

Willow smiled sadly. "I'm glad you're here."

For a moment there he thought she meant that him being there was what was wrong. Then she made that little correction, which was relieving...sort of. He smiled back, very faintly. All he wanted to do was hang on to her until she stopped making that face, but he didn't. "I'm glad you're here too," he offered. "I just got here a few days ago. So."

He paused. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He had been here longer than her, therefore knew the place better. Oz was quiet, stood back a year, but he was smart. Everyone else may not understand Oz as well, but Willow did.

Oz was here for a few days when to Willow, Oz was only gone for a few hours. Then she remembered the future version of Buffy and her ordeal.

Don't panic, she thought to herself, taking deep breaths. Everything will be peachy keen.

"Oz...where...when are you from?" She asked, then figured that he probably was going to think she was crazy. Willow squeezed her eyes shut, shaking some sense into her head. "I mean, what day was it before you got here?"

Where sort of made sense. When seemed to be stretching it a little. He considered it. "...Tuesday?" That didn't sound like what she was asking for, though. "September 28th. 1998." There, couldn't get much more specific than that. "Why?"

He had a funny sort of sinking feeling about the reason behind that question, but decided not think about it.

Her heart sank.

Oz wasn't from the future. He wasn't even from her present. It was an Oz from a year ago while they were still attending Sunnydale High. It was before Veruca, before Graduation, before they even...

A part of her was plotting wickedly. She could change everything, pretend all was okay, but the honest, sweet part of her that always triumphed knew that she should tell Oz.

"I think you need to sit down," she replied, reaching forward to hold his hands.

He took them, unable to hide his confusion this time. She looked like she was ready to let loose with some truly terrible news--that someone had died, that she had terminal cancer. He sat down, running his thumb over her knuckles. He'd try to be comforting, even if he didn't know what was wrong.

"I'm sitting," he confirmed, trying to be at least vaguely lighthearted about this whole thing. "At the ready in a seated position."

Willow smiled, amused by Oz and just...Oz. She couldn't stop thinking about it, about him here in front of her and caressing her like nothing was going to go wrong with them down the road.

"I'm..." She took a deep breath, unsure of how exactly to tell him and whether she should go through with it in the first place. But, she had to. It was the right thing to do, Veruca be damned. Willow licked her lips and went forth, "I'm from the future. Like, way in the future. Almost exactly a year from you. I go...or, well, went to college and you were there, but then...you left."

Left?

He stilled, staring. He was watching her and hearing what she was saying but it was so hard, so hard to believe.

Left? He didn't understand. Sure, what she said was probably possible in theory. Maybe something happened to push them apart. He didn't like to think about it, but it was a possibility. But...left? That sounded more permanent. Like he'd gone somewhere to get away from her. A year in the future. At college with Willow. Had they been living together?

God, what if it was completely different than he was thinking? What if he'd hurt her somehow? Did the wolf have anything to do with this? He felt suddenly icy with fear and confusion.

"What happened?" he asked finally, his brow furrowed. He had too many questions to pick just one, so it was best to go broad.

How could she explain it? It was still fresh in her memory. Everything from seeing them together to Veruca's blood on the floor. Willow bit her lip, fighting back a sob. It was all coming up again to the surface, and she had to tell him. She couldn't lie to Oz, not anymore. There were supposed to be no secrets between them.

"There was this...this girl," she started, looking away. "She was like you...you know, the wolf thingy, and she...got in the way."

There were definitely tears now. Swelling up and rolling down her face like she was this big, fat baby. Willow took another deep breath, trying to compose herself.

"She tried to take you from me," Willow explain, her voice cracking. "She tried to kill me and you...you stopped her."

He reached up and brushed her tears away with his thumb. Willow crying was not fun. He almost asked her to stop, but he knew there had to be more to it than him simply leaving because a girl had tried to kill Willow. It was Sunnydale. That sort of thing happened almost all the time anyway.

"What happened after that?" he asked.

"You left," Willow whispered, trying not to lean into his touch. "You said you were dangerous and...and that you didn't want to hurt me. You wanted to find a cure, so you left."

He strung the story together in his mind. Another werewolf had tried to kill Willow because she'd wanted him. He'd stopped her. Then he'd decided to leave and find a cure.

He looked up to Willow. "...you said I stopped her. How exactly did I stop her?"

It was one of those lovely questions where there was no good answer, really. Especially because he had a feeling he knew what she was going to say. There was only one thing he could think of that would make him feel like he was too dangerous to be around Willow, to go so far as to leave her behind to find a cure. It was something he'd thought about, sure. But Willow was always there, always a reason to stay.

The scene played again in her mind. She was doing a spell, a curse on both Oz and Veruca, but relented at the last minute. Then, she came in, snarling and cursing her. It happened so fast with Oz bursting in, saving the day, turning wolf and the two of them attacking each other like wild animals. Willow could only watch helplessly.

"You ripped out her throat," she answered him quietly, afraid of his reaction.

"Oh." He didn't know what to say, really. On the one hand, well, there was his worst nightmare a reality somewhere in the nebulous future. He knew what the wolf was capable of. He knew that. But at the same time, the idea that he could kill someone...

But she'd been trying to kill Willow. There was that, of course, not really a justification...but something. A reason. It hadn't been senseless, it hadn't been...

What was he thinking? A death was a death. He tried to shake the thought of it, how he could imagine that it happened. The image stuck. "That doesn't have to happen, now," he said finally, but he wasn't so sure. He knew the truth though, and whether or not it happened now didn't change the fact that someday it most likely would.

"You're here," she smiled, wanting so much to hold him and never let go, not for anything. "And...and you still love me, right? Well, as much as you did a year ago...heh."

Senior year...wow. She could not even remember everything that happened then. Willow tried to think, recalling the year through all the monsters and disasters. There was...oh God, Xander.

But, Oz was acting normal, so maybe that didn't happen yet either?

"Of course," he said, shaking his head. "That's not going to change. I just..."

He trailed off. He'd left to make sure nothing happened to Willow. So...was he a danger to her? Maybe. Probably no more than he always had been, but still. "I don't know. I need to think about this."

No. No, no, no, no. There was fear in her eyes. She caused it again. That no matter what was going to happen, Oz was going to leave her for her own good, her own safety. Willow just made it come sooner for Oz, made it happen now, and she couldn't let it happen again. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair that she was going to be left miserable and heartbroken all over.

"Don't leave again. Please." Asserting herself, she grabbed his wrists. Her grip a little firmer than Willow from a year ago. "We can figure something out together."

He was a little surprised when she grabbed him that way. She looked so panicked...he really must have done a number on her when he'd left. Future thinking--how weird. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, meeting her gaze. "Look. See? Right here. It just...it bears thinking about."

Slightly relieved, she loosened her grip. Her hands were back in her lap, fidgeting and twisting. Oz said he wouldn't and Willow would have to trust him as much as she could. It was going to be difficult given everything that happened, but she had to remain sensible. This was good, wholesome Oz from a year ago and he would not dream of hurting her like this. There was no Veruca too as far as she knew and that was the wrench in their relationship.

They could be normal or as normal as they could be in Metropolis 2.0. A witch and a werewolf could make it in a city of super heroes and super villains. If they could make it against she-wolves, zombies, vampires...

Smiling, she leaned forward to kiss him.

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half-moon, night sky (semi-private, complete)

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