The pain was unreal. It had been one thing to know that Oz was gone for an indefinite stretch of time, but it was another to have to actually face the idea that he might never come back. Before, she could visit his room, touching each of his things in turn, breathing in his scent, looking at pictures of them together. His room had still radiated his essence, like he had just stepped out and could return at any second. But now that was gone, and there was nothing left to cling to. She felt like her heart had been replaced by a dense, sucking black hole that threatened to consume her entire self. She felt like she had been cleaved in two by the white-hot pain, and half of her had fallen away and disappeared to wherever Oz was, lost to her, maybe forever.

Buffy was sympathetic, but she was dealing with her own stuff and trying to enjoy the budding start of her relationship with Riley. Willow was just the rain ruining their picnic, almost literally. And these days, Xander was always with Anya, who never failed to turn Willow's mood from bad to worse, so he was out. Giles was babysitting a de-fanged, somehow even more annoying Spike, and there ended Willow's entire friend group. Unless she counted Oz. Which, obviously, she couldn't.

Talking hadn't helped. Drinking hadn't helped. But maybe there was one more option. She had been putting it off because it was dangerous, and because Oz would definitely disapprove, but in the middle of the night, in the faint, lingering edges of alcohol-induced haze, none of that seemed to matter. She would fix this. She would stop the pain. She had the power.

While Buffy slept, unaware, she fetched out her candles and spellbook and snuck out to the dorm bathroom.

"Harken well, ye elements. I summon thee now. Control the outside, control within. Land and sea, fire and wind. Out of my passions a web be spun. From this eve forth, my will be done. So mote it be."

There were spells that, when she attempted to cast them, left her wondering if anything had happened. This was not one of those spells. The candle flames flared all the way to the ceiling in a flash of light, and a crack and roll of thunder nearly knocked her flat. Magic tingled in her fingertips. She had done it. It had worked.

She checked her watch. It had taken her longer than expected to set the spell up, and people would be waking up soon and probably wanting to use the bathroom. Adrenaline and hope both rushing through her veins, she scrambled to clean up the spell components and return them to the trunk at the foot of her bed. The smell of smoke still hung faintly in the air, but hopefully it would disperse in time. Buffy stirred in her sleep, and Willow slipped under her own covers and closed her eyes, heart racing too fast for her to drift off.

Tomorrow would change everything. Tomorrow, she would change everything.