In Your Arms Tonight was nominated for a 1999 Golden Frog Award in the category of Best 1-Part Fic.
Summary: Willow makes a choice.
Spoilers: Kind of all, but nothing really specific. Does that make
sense?
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, no matter how much I wish they
were. <sigh> They belong to Joss Whedon and the WB I have to
live with borrowing them for my stories.
Rating: PG-ish
Lots of thanks to Laura who found the lyrics by Cutting Crew for me. :)
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In Your Arms Tonight was nominated for a 1999 Golden Frog Award in
the category of Best 1-Part Fic.
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by: Amy
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"Oh, I just died in your arms tonight
Must have been something you said
I just died in your arms tonight
oh I- I just died in your arms tonight
Must have been some kind of kiss
I should have walked away.
I should have walked away."-- Cutting Crew
I lower my eyes from his intense stare, wanting to be anywhere else but where I am, wanting to be in the past. He chuckles, a sound that, while it makes me shake with fear, also brings back wonderful memories. He knew his laugh would do that. He knows me too well.
The tears leak out of my eyes before I can stop them, and I want nothing more than to be innocent Willow again, his Willow, when he was human. So much had changed between us and our relationship. It had gotten deeper and more meaningful and took on the differences of maturity that I had always hoped for; prayed for. And now I don't know what to do anymore.
He was changed over a month ago.
My life hasn't recovered from that shock yet. For days I sat in my room, not eating or sleeping. Just... sitting. Thinking. Remembering. He had given me so much, so much of our love for each other was taken for granted. I remembered the way his eyes lit darkly with our first kiss, the way his hands felt on my back when he held me close to him. He was so special to me.
Buffy was sure he would come after me right away, that I would be his first kill. But no, I knew that it wouldn't be me. He would come for me when I was weak and he had gotten stronger. He would come for me after I hadn't eaten right, after I was barely able to stand I missed him so much. He would come to me after he killed someone else we cared about, someone like Giles or Cordelia. He would come directly from that feed, come to kill me. I knew that the thought would haunt him until he had carried it out.
We found Giles's body three days ago. I knew it was drawing close. He was lying in the library, across the table. He had been completely drained of blood, and a note had been scrawled in his familiar writing. 'Thanks.' it had read. I had not said a word, not even as Buffy wept and gathered his seemingly boneless body into her arms. Not even as she told me later that she would watch and guard the rest of us every second. Because I knew that he knew that she couldn't be with me at every moment. I knew, even though it hurt to know, how it would end. That Buffy would be mourning her best friend before it was over. That I would be gone, and the thoughts that had tormented me in the past month would fall into blessed silence.
He walks forward now, smiling a hard, and somehow compassionate smile. He slips his fingers through my hair and I lean against him, unconsciously taking from his strength like I have so many times in the past. He puts his lips to mine, and for a brief, sweet second, I'm swept away by the love I feel, the love that I know is even in his soulless heart for me.
He pulls back as my heart speeds up and looks at me steadily, holding my chin so I can't turn away from his hard gaze. Oh, God, I love him. Even now. Even though I can't. I should be fighting, but I know that I'm not going to; that I can't. What will Buffy say when she finds out? How long will she cry for me?
"Willow." His voice is rough and-- am I imagining it-- deeper than it was in life. I nod slowly, my eyes locked on his. He smiles, satisfied. "You knew I would be here. You know it's time. You know where I just came from." I nod again.
"I know, Oz." My voice is steady, not releasing the grief or fear I feel. He just came from Xander. I want to in outrage at the confirmation, but I was aware of it the second it was done. I was aware that my best friend wasn't alive anymore. I've known him since I was born. It seems fitting that I felt him die. But Oz won't make it hurt. I'm sure of that. Part of my mind screams against this betrayal of my soul, but I ignore it and tilt my head to the side.
A whisper of air slips over my skin, and then a brief, sharp pain. Then a sinking feeling that's warm and cold at the same time. His tongue laps up my blood as it seeps out of the wound he created and I smile. I go limp in his arms and he finally lays me down on my bed. It passes vaguely through my mind to wonder how he got in, but I brush the thought off; it would take too much energy.
Instead I remember dully the first time we met. I remember his look of happy surprise; I remember the feelings of shyness I overcame when he was around. I remember betraying him and him forgiving me; I remember when we finally did decide to make love, and the wonder that I felt as his hands wandered over my body and his lips followed. Oz was everything to me for so long. He was the day and the night, sweetness and passion. This is what I want, I tell myself, trying to ignore the feelings of self-hatred for the easy way out I'm taking.This is the only way.
I don't want to think of Buffy.
He slices his wrist.
I knew he would.
He guides it to my mouth and I latch on hungrily, feeding from him, taking from him. As long as I'm no longer without him, I can do anything. He offers it all to me, and I take without question as he will do from me in the future.
I will die in his arms tonight.
I will wake up in them, too.
The End
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