The familiar sound of the spare tire rattling in the back as he turned onto Main Street reminded him that he needed to have it fixed. The last thing he needed was to be stranded by a flat tire anywhere near the Hellmouth. If he remembered correctly, there used to be a garage out by the skating rink that was open late on a Sunday.

Looking around, he noticed that Sunnydale seemed brighter than the last time he'd been in town. Rolling his window down at a stoplight, Oz took a deep breath. There was something missing. Taking another breath, he nodded to himself. The evil that had permeated the very atmosphere seemed to be gone. Sunnydale was cleaner than he remembered. Almost as if something or someone had closed the Hellmouth. Spying an empty parking spot in front of a hardware store, he cautiously directed his battered old van into it.

Climbing from his van, Oz started walking towards the Espresso Pump, at the end of the block. It'd been a long and dusty drive from Austin and he could feel the caffeine from his last stop starting to wear off. One more infusion would keep him going long enough to settle in for the night. But before he could reached it, something woke up the wolf buried deep in his subconscious. Something dangerous was coming towards him. Something even his wolf feared.

Puzzled, Oz stopped and looked around. It was too early in the evening for any of Sunnydale's more dangerous denizens to be out in public. His eyes stopped. Walking towards him was a small figure, her face hidden by long brown hair. Her left arm was wrapped around a taller blonde who was walking with a rough limp, apparently supporting her. One of them was not what they appeared to be. Doing his best to appear harmless, Oz stepped out of their way.

"Tara?" Oz said in surprise, recognizing the taller woman by her scent as they started to pass him. She stopped abruptly, turning to look at him, staring suspiciously in his direction. Up close Oz could see a jagged scar crossing her right cheek. The smaller woman slid down and crouched at her feet, growling slightly.

"Buffy, it's okay," the blonde said, resting her hand on the other woman's head, like she was a small child in need of comfort. "It's just Oz."

"Wolfie," Buffy said, staring at him intently for a moment.

Oz looked down at the crouching woman, only now recognizing her and picking out her unique scent from the danger signals bombarding him. "What happened?" he asked. This being Sunnydale, Buffy being alive when she was supposed to be dead wasn't a huge surprise but her current behavior certainly was.

"This isn't the place," Tara murmured. "We're going to see Willow if you would like to come along," she added softly.

"Bad Willow!" Buffy muttered peevishly, like a child.

"Hush, Buffy," Tara told her softly, "you're not being fair."

"Matches," Buffy grumbled, rising to her feet again and gently urging Tara forward.

He stared at them walking away for a minute before hurrying to catch up.

Oz stared at the small gravestone for several minutes, the wolf inside him getting restless. When he'd gotten the message that he was needed in Sunnydale this wasn't quite what he'd expected to find. Looking up, he could see Buffy chasing a butterfly in the almost parklike cemetery.

"How?" He asked Tara, waving at the small inscription. Her name and a date seemed so inadequate for the red head who'd seemed so full of life the last time he'd seen her.

"She refused to believe that Buffy was really dead," Tara said, staring sightlessly towards Buffy. "She thought she'd found a way to bring her back from wherever she'd gone. But it needed a lot of power. So..."

"Hellmouth," Oz said, nodding.

"Yes." Tara looked down at Willow's grave. Oz could smell the sadness rolling off of her. "She thought she could channel it into the spell." She looked up at him with haunted eyes. "She pulled so much power from it that it put the Hellmouth to sleep."

"Worked," he said brusquely, nodding in Buffy's direction. "And no more Hellmouth."

"Not enough," Tara said softly. "She couldn't control it. It killed her. The backlash did this." She touched her face. "And it's just sleeping. It might still wake up some day."

"Buffy?" Oz asked.

"She has good days when she's almost normal and bad days. Like today."

"The spell messed her up," Oz concluded, not too surprised. Willow's magic had been only marginally successful when he'd last lived in Sunnydale.

"Someday she'll be better," Tara said, still watching Buffy. "Her good days are lasting longer."

"The others?" He looked around at the other nearby tombstones but none of the names appeared familiar.

"Xander left before this happened. He didn't make it back for her funeral. He sends postcards every week from wherever he is. The Council called Mr. Giles back to England."

"Do they know?" He tilted his head towards Buffy.

"No." Tara sat down on the bench next to Willow's grave. He nodded when she didn't elaborate, watching curiously as Buffy curled up beside her, putting her head in Tara's lap.

"Dawn," Buffy said, something in her searching look sending chills down Oz's back.

"Yes, Dawn, sweetie." Tara gently brushed the hair away from Buffy's face. In the back of his mind, Oz could hear his wolf whispering things to him that he couldn't quite make out.

"She's with Alix," Buffy said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"You know better," Tara said, looking down at her. "Dawnie's with her father. She sent us a postcard last month."

"Alix?" Oz asked.

"She insists Dawn is with someone named Alix." Tara frowned. "She doesn't want her to know she's alive."