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Kennedy’s words repeated within his grasp. This was supposed to be his good night, his best night. But Oz could see it scorched into cinders. This was not having a good night at all.

“Somebody help me here! Please!” His cry echoed through the mansion, a building of elegance with walls for princes and marbled décor. But now, those walls that witnessed everything taking place, those same walls painted emptiness and seemed dull as Oz felt alone and abandoned when no one came to his help. Kennedy was strangely still cold. Willow was still out there with that….thing. To his surprise, no magical booms, punches or shouts occurred outside. What kind of fight was going on out there?

“…don’t…Willow…p-p-please…”

“Don’t worry, Kennedy she won’t.” He had to say something to keep Kennedy fighting.

“…st-st-stay….with me…”

“She will, Kenn, but you need to fight this first!” One solid tear quivered about his cheek, loosely dancing toward his chin. “Willow would never leave you, Kennedy…” His words spaced out with a sniffle or two. He said what he had to in order to keep Kennedy alive.

“I love…you…Willow…” Her faint words continued growing thin. Oz was dying with her as he said every word. It killed him inside, knowing he finalized their breakup. It would kill him more if Kennedy died.

Phoenix ran to Oz's side, looking at Kennedy.
"I don't know what to do here. I'm no freakin' healer, man."
She touched the girl's face, then checked her pulse.
"Dude...."
The look in Phoenix's eyes said it all. This was bad.

Bewilderment took over as Oz looked at the girl.

“No, no! She’ll be fine!”

She had to be, for Oz’s sanity. For him, Kennedy was drifting not because of spell of the huge monster; she was drifting because of a heart ache. How was he supposed to live with himself know he took part in it?

Oz noticed the creature walking toward him. What now? Did he want Kennedy? Oz gripped the sickly girl as tight as he could. What else was he supposed to do? What else could he do?

The now-brunette Willow grabbed Oz by the arm, yanking him up.
"Let her go for now. The creature will heal her."
She looked deeply into his eyes, feeling a flicker of emotion. But in her current state, it was difficult to conjure real feelings for much of anything.
"Do what you promised. And then I'm yours. You can use me as you wish, for the time being."

Buffy looked down at Atticus.
"Well, he is a fast healer," she said to Lorne.
"He'll be fine. I've got more important things to do, and Riley... go away. I can't deal with you right now."
She turned to Willow and that creature she'd dealt with the other night.
"Why are you back here? What is it you want?", she asked it.
Without waiting on an answer, she stood as close to Willow as she dared, considering what she looked like, and asked Oz, "What happened to her? And where the hell are her pants?"

Beast. Monster. Thing. It. These are only some of the many labels humans used to justify what they do not understand. They always feared things…different. The Gauru creature had had enough of this. His tolerance for human insubordination toward natural creatures of Mother Earth was now beyond thin; it was ready to break.

He turned toward the young man for a moment. His snout was big enough to bite his head of if he chose to. He cracked open his mouth, just enough to reveal sharp fangs.

“I suggest your comrade be silent, for his own sake.”

Oz widened his eyes as the beast seemed to be ready to snap him into two. He grabbed Willow’s arm. Never had Oz seen a werewolf so ferocious and so enormous. But what scared Oz the most was the fact that this werewolf had control. He knew exactly what he was doing. He did not go into a killing spree. A beast with that much control over a primal rage was not something to take lightly. He gulped his saliva back down his throat. Unfortunately, it was heard.