She lay against the wall of the sleazy motel. Her hair fuzzed out and crazy from not being brushed, her eyes wild like trapped animal. She had dreamed about it again. Dreamed about him again.

Willow lived in fear of him. She hated him and loved him in the same breath. And he always found her, always chased her.

Oz. . . the man she had loved with everything she had and then thrown away like a dirty dollar bill. Oz who had changed his very being just to please her and she had left him for Tara. She didn't regret that. She had loved Tara at the time, and she still loved Tara. But she also loved Oz.

You never forget your first love, and she certainly wasn't about to.

She had caste a spell. When Buffy was killed and Dawn had committed suicide. When Spike had been staked protecting Xander a few years later and Xander had moved to England to be with Giles. When she was so completely alone that she had wanted to scream out loud to the universe she had caste a spell to find him. She had sent out a magical call, asking him to come to her. To keep her company and love her again.

She wanted so much to be loved again.

Willow dragged herself up from the sitting position she was crouched in. She dug her nails into the cheap wood of the nightstand and resumed a standing position. Her eyes felt like they were bleeding but she knew they were merely hot tears streaming down her face. Stumbling blearily into the bathroom she flipped on the light. The hot white fluorescents seemed to burn her skin and she quickly turned them back off. Temporarily blinded by the change in lighting she stood in front of the sink and ran cold water. She splashed her face and then walked slowly back to the tangled bed, falling down onto the corner of it. She realized that she was still crying.

The spell had worked, only too well. That night he had come to her in her dreams. They had been together again, lying in bed. Arms and legs in a tangle and her head resting on his chest. She had felt his breath in her hair and his hand was tracing her hip. It had been perfect until his nails had turned black and long and his breath turned into a deep growl.

His hand had torn into her flesh, yanking her to the side of the bed he had pounced on top of her. Blood was everywhere and she knew that she was not going to die quickly. His face was still Oz for a second, just enough so that she could know it was him before morphing into that of the wolf that had ruined them. His eyes had glittered green and then a dark brown/black had seeped into the pupils.

She had screamed than, feeling the terror of being eaten alive. She had known that Oz would show no mercy, he was going to hurt her physically as she had hurt him emotionally. A slow rotting death.

"Oz, please!" She had screamed. "I love you!"

He had looked into her eyes, his head cocking to the side. Words flowed from his snout that should have been garbled but came out perfectly. "Don't you wish that was enough?"

She had woken up covered in sweat. Her hair was matted to the back of her neck, she heard someone screaming and realized it was herself. The sound rang in her ears and she didn't care. She was mad with terror.

That had been two years ago. The dreams had come every night since than. The spell she had caste had backfired, giving her endless contact with Oz. . . in her dreams and in her mind but he was always going to kill her. Always she would feel loved and completed and than it juxtapose and Oz would turn into the wolf that he had worked so hard to fight.

She had become afraid to sleep. Willow hardly ate and nobody was around to care. She began to waste away and had eventually been kicked out of her apartment for not paying her rent. Now she was here in this motel room. She spent most of her time trying desperately not to fall asleep. She did everything and none of it worked, she always dozed off and her screams were always what woke her up.

Her love wasn't ever enough to make it stop.

She had called Xander and Giles when it had first started. Neither had returned her calls, she wasn't even sure that they were still alive.

Willow honestly wasn't sure if she was still alive.

The sun seemed to spray through the dark burgundy curtains. It was sunrise already? She had gotten maybe a half hour of sleep. There was a knock at the door, was it the manager? Here to kick her out finally? She ignored it.

The knock was persistent. Willow crawled out of the bed, a dizziness of hunger and lack of sleep hitting her like a truck when she stood on her feet. Going to the door she opened it and nearly fainted.

"Will?"

She blinked slowly. It was him, Oz. She must be dreaming again. . . he was going to kill her. Torment her. Just like he always did.

She backed away from the door. Not thinking to slam it in his face.

"Willow? What's wrong?" He asked, coming into the room. He looked different then he usually did in her dreams. Not the man she had loved in college but an older more mature man. His hair was a deep rusty red and spiked as it had always been though.

"I love you." She whispered.

Oz arched an eyebrow in confusion, coming towards her. He ignored the comment. "I've been having dreams about you." He said, his hands were out in front of him as if to show her he had no weapon. She knew he could sense that she would bolt at any second. "I finally found you here. . . are you okay?"

"I love you and it's NOT ENOUGH!" She screamed at him. Wanting to scratch his beautiful eyes out and in the same moment wanting to fall into his arms just to have him hold her while she slept. She whimpered pitifully. "You always hurt me."

"Willow, I didn't come here to hurt you."

"You didn't even come here. This is my dream." It was the first time she had ever known she was dreaming she realized, how odd. She felt light as a cloud, she could finally beat this. Maybe she could make the dreams stop. "You always hurt me. . . you want to kill me. I hurt you."

Oz managed to look utterly hurt and confused in the same moment. "You aren't dreaming, Willow. I'm here. . . this is reality. Willow, I came to help you. Do you need help?"

She launched herself at him. His arms came up defensively as she punched at him. Her frame knocking him flat on his back. Oz tried to grab her arms as she futily slapped at his face. He managed to trap her wrists and rolled her so that he was pinning her to the floor. She began to keen, tears running down her face. "Please don't kill me."

Oz could feel how thin she was through the t-shirt she wore. Her arms were merely bone and her face was ragged and had little flesh. Her eyes were wild and insane and he didn't know what to do. "Willow, you are awake. Awake." He said softly. She had stopped struggling against him and lay there, both of her wrists clasped in his her breath heaving her chest up.

"Is it enough?" She managed after a moment. "I love you." She sounded like a small child.

He let go of her wrists slowly, his face calm. "It's enough."