Part Four

Now. .
Stars were appearing above Willow Rosenberg's head, but she didn't notice them. Or the icy breeze in her hair, or how much her feet hurt from standing still so long. . .
Standing over Alexander Harris's grave for so long. . .
She did manage to pick up on the vampire approaching her from behind, though.
***
Angel sighed, contemplating whether or not to announce his presence to Willow or not. He hadn't seen her since he'd left the hospital to follow Joyce Summers back to the house. It had been put in her records that no one but family be allowed to visit her for the two weeks she spent in the hospital. He could only assume that this was the first chance she'd had to grieve at her friend's grave, and so he knew the most respectful thing to do would be to turn and allow her a moment of privacy, but. . .he felt compelled to watch.
And as he did, a wooden stake very delibrately fell from the sleeve of Willow's jacket into her right hand.
Angel took the. . .(ahem) point and walked back into the shadows.
***
Willow spun in a defensive stance <how do I know defensive stances>, she thought for a fleeting moment, and raised her stake to dust whoever was waiting to bite. There was only the empty graveyard to meet her eyes though...
At the Library
Twenty minutes later found Willow at the library doors. She hesitated in opening them though, knowing she would never find the people she was really looking for behind them again. In fact, when she did open them, she didn't find any of the people she was looking for; the library was completly empty.
She wondered for a minute if no one had been back since. . but there was a cup of tea next to "her" computer, and a quick touch of the ceramic edge revealed it to be quite warm. A dialouge box flashed angrily from the screen of the computer "Fatal error...Netscape has performed an illegal opperation. This program will be automaticly shut down.
<Poor Giles>, she thought.. <He must have had a devil of a time with me gone. I wonder whar he was researching...> She exited the file and roke the modem connection. As she was preparing to go back online and use the history file to get back onto Giles's site, she heard voices coming from his office. She got up from the chair and moved closer, unabashedly eavesdropping.
". . .just saw her, graveyard..." <Angel!> she thought, with a thrill of stunning recognition. She hadn't seen him in so long. . .
". . .weak. . ."
"shouldn't tell her then. . ." That was Giles. <What don't they want to tell me?> she wondered. She heard Angel sigh.
". ..no idea...shouldn't have to face that . . ."
". . .might have no choice. . "
"I want. . .keep her from it. . .long as possible. . ."
"agree. . .tell Oz. . "
Willow looked down at the checkout counter, at the newspapers scattered there. She scanned the headlines, and for a moment she was afraid her heart was going to stop beating.
"No," she whispered, then repeated herself more loudly. She shoved the papers to the tile floor and hit the double doors running.
***
Giles's office
"What was that?!" Giles asked as Angel's head whipped around towards the door.
"Willow," he whispered as he caught sight of a ruby-red banner of hair fleeing the library.
"So much for not telling her," Giles muttered as Angel took off after her.
***
The Hallway.
"Willow,"Angel called down the corridor.
She spun angriliy. "You weren't going to tell me?!" she demanded '' How--how could you lie? Why?'' Tears bound her eyes and throat.
"I'm sorry," he said, reaching for her. She colapsed into his safety and her soul poured out through her sobs. "I'm so, so sorry," he said, stroking her hair as he had Bridget's the night her husband was killed. It wasn't until he found himself soothing her in Gaelic that he realized just how much Willow reminded him of his baby sister.
"Oh, Angel, I can't...I can't face that again. Please, please don't let it hurt.."she babbled incoherently into his shoulder. He tightened his grip around her small body.
"Nothing is going to hurt you. I won't let it touch you, I promise," he said with firece protection. He found his lips on her neck and he kissed her there, in comfort.
She lifted her ruddy face and met his eyes. Their lips were millimeters apart, and rapidly closing. Willow half-shut her eyes in anticipation of his caress.
"Uh, guys?" Oz asked from behind them.
***
Willow broke out of the peace of Angel's arms and felt coldly alone in beneath the flourescent lights of the hallway.
"Oz," she breathed, chest heaving. Shame flourished in her body, replacing. . . whatever else it was that had been . . .flourishing.
"Willow," he said, stepping closer to her. Angel automatically stepped backwards into the shadows.
She entered into his embrace, finding his small shoulders less comforting than Angel's and his arms less strong.
"Are you alright?" he asked, burying his face in her hair. She weakly nodded.
"Oz? Could you drive me home? It's just...Its too much."
He nodded. "of course." He slid his arm around her and led her to his van.
Something funny broke inside of Angel when he saw Oz's hands on Willow's waist.
***
Outside of the Rosenberg's house
Oz put the rambling van into park. "We're here", he said softly. Willow broke away from the window.
"Oh," she said.
He reached for her hand. She drew it back.
"Oz," she said. "A lot has happened...a lot's going to happen, if I'm right. I think. . . I think maybe I need a break. Just for a little while...Please?"
He swallowed, hard. Something wolfy in him got the urge to go kill a rabbit.
"I understand," he choked out. She smiled weakly.
"Friends?" she begged.
He touched her cheek. "Always."
He watched as she got out and walked across the street to her house.
<I've lost her,> he thought to himself as he started the van and drove away.
***
Inside Willow's room

Willow looked around her green and white bedroom for five minutes until the pressing weight of all the pictures of Buffy and Xander made it too difficult to breathe. She turned on her heel and sprinted out into the night, seeking comfort's arms. . .
 

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