November 1, 2029- Los Angeles

“What do you mean, ‘She’s gone?’ Has she gone back to Maine?” Oscar hoped that that was what she meant, that Jonina had gone home to continue grieving, and that the insane, but entirely understandable, need to misuse the magic was gone, and Jonina was going to move on with her life, and try to be happy, just as Spike would have wanted; but somehow, he knew that wasn’t what Willow meant.

The sad horror he saw in her eyes made him certain it wasn’t what she meant, “Oh Oscar, I hoped she would have taken after him, and distrusted magic,” the worry was making Willow’s voice piercing, almost painful to his sensitive ears, “But, it didn’t,” he could see the tears starting to form in her eyes, as she took a step forward, imploring him to let her beyond the threshold of his small flat, “She…”

“Willow,” Oscar said cautiously, his eyes narrowing, taking in her stricken expression, “it was his last…” he stopped, as the pain of his kin’s demise came to the surface again, and he pushed it aside, preferring to focus on the present, and on something he could actually *do*, rather than the fevered and desperate ramblings that still haunted his dreams, “You were supposed to keep her from it. Are you telling me that she…?”

The bloodless pallor of her face made him take a step back, allowing her to come into his home. As Willow walked the short distance to his sofa, she spoke in a shuddering voice, “I thought she just wanted to reminisce, you know?” she turned to look at him, nodding nervously, “Talk about happier times? And, there were happier times…”

“I understand, Willow,” he sighed, sitting beside her, “Go on.”

“I thought that, if she could get to know Buffy and Spike better…” she sniffed, “I mean, she was so young when Buffy got sick. I-I thought she might not even remember anything about before,” she searched Oscar’s face for understanding, “So, I told her about the wedding…And, their time in the little apartment on Jennings Street…”

Oscar was silent, waiting for her to finish. But, his muscles were taught with fear. He knew something wasn’t right.

And, with the witch’s next words, that fear became a sickening reality.

“And,” she whispered, her words barely disturbed the air, but were heavy with shame, “I told her about his journals.”

Oscar turned to look at her, as they sat on the sofa, his face slack with shock, “You didn’t…?” he whispered.

Her head bowed, because she could not bear to look into eyes that were so like his, and know she’d failed him, “Yes, I did,” Willow confessed.

Oscar’s voice became tight, desperately clinging to a hope he knew was dead, even before the words passed his lips, “But…” he shook his head, unwilling to face the terror he could see unfolding in front of him, and remembering William’s delirious insistence, “He wanted them burned. Did he burn them?”

Willow gave a defeated sigh, her voice trembling as she answered, “I don’t think he did.”

Oscar closed his eyes, trying to shut out the memory of his pain, and the pain the severed bond had caused him, “Did you?” he pleaded, clinging to his last hope.

A hope that died, as she whispered, “No. I don’t know where they are. They’ve disappeared.”

“Oh, God…Do you know what this could do? If she…?”

Willow’s eyes were wide with terror, and a grim conviction, “We’re not talking about ‘Ifs’ anymore…”
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The roar of anguish that rattled the windows of the building on Jennings Street tore at Oscar’s already tattered heart.

He could remember feeling that kind of agony himself when he discovered the true purpose of the amulet that Spike had been trapped inside. He had wanted nothing more than to cause his own apocalypse because of it.

That monster had not only taken Diana from him, he had taken the boy who had been Mary’s only saving grace. He often had nightmares, wondering what had become of the quintessence of him, and if it existed at all.

He and the witch, and all the mystics that could be had, the world over, had labored for an entire year, catching only glimpses of the havoc that a daughter’s grief could cause, before they were finally able to track her.

The fabric of time had been so tattered by the time they found her, that there was only an infinitesimal chance of repairing the damage. And, a greater chance of damaging the flow of time even more, perhaps destroying the universe in the process.

But, they knew they had to try. And, Oscar knew he would do anything he had to do, to give his soul some kind of peace.
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NOVEMBER 1, 2030- Los Angeles-

Willow tried to shield her eyes from the harsh white light the energy around the portal was giving off, “This is it,” she screamed, barely able to make herself heard over the roaring force, grimacing with the effort she was expending to keep the magic stable, “I don’t know how much longer I can hold it. But, her essence has been stable for a few hours now,” she looked quickly over at Oscar, “So…” she nodded toward the gleaming purple energy, waiting for him to move. When he didn’t move, she continued, “Now would be the time to jump,” she urged, hoping she wouldn’t have to reveal the whole truth.

That was a volatile ace, and if she showed it, she was afraid she might make things worse.

The apprehension was clear in his eyes, “Are you sure this is safe?” he asked, looking at her warily, “If I find him…I might kill him,” his visage became a mask of grinning death, “End the world…It’s too good for the likes of him. He deserves to suffer for what he did.”

She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips, “There are a myriad of ways to suffer, living being just one of them. You won’t kill him, because you don’t know what that will do…and you like this world. Just like he…did. Now go, before the thing becomes unstable!”

Still, he did not move.

*Time to use that ace. *

“He’s there too,” she spoke softly, knowing he would hear, “He’s protecting her, somehow,” she smiled through her tears, “Let him know that there’s hope, and I *know* he’ll find a way through to her. Count on it. After all, he is the ‘Energizer Bunny.’”

Before she could blink, the light flashed, and Oscar disappeared.
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Hearing Spike scream in rage, it was very difficult to keep the demon under control, especially when he saw the streak of pale yellow, a yellow that reminded him of a winter sunrise, burst forth from behind the small door.

His breath caught, as he gasped, involuntarily.

Could this really be her? He’d seen her as a full-fledged Slayer, and a grief-stricken daughter, not as a little girl. She was so much like his… “Rabbit,” he whispered, moving swiftly to catch her.
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