Fic - Moonlight Sonata (Oz, pre-DSOM)
For secondverse's birthday fest (aka - Yinathon), she asked me to write her a pre-"Dark Side of the Moon" fic looking at Oz as he travelled between leaving Sunnydale and arriving in England. The alternative request was to write the next part of the main fic. Since the rest of the fic is sort of written, but has been languishing in revisions, I didn't feel like that was fair. It wasn't really writing for her. So I went with the prequel option. I hope it pleases.
You don't have to have read DSOM to follow this. And for those who are wondering, I do hope to have the main story finished soon. I'd wanted to have it by the time this was posted, but obviously that's not happening. :)
Title: Moonlight Sonata
Author: Moosesal
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character: Oz
Rating: For all audiences.
Oz left Sunnydale in a daze. Lost within himself. Within the regret over what he’d done with Veruca, unable to explain his actions. He looked at Willow and saw hurt. Betrayal. A heart broken by his actions. And when he looked inside -- he saw nothing. Just empty blackness. He couldn’t do this anymore. He needed to know what he was, who he was.
So he left.
***
He rolled into L.A. and stayed with a friend of Devon’s for a few days. He sniffed around -- literally -- and met up with other weres. Through them he found an occult shop with a “special collection” on lycanthropy. He poured over the books with an enthusiasm he’d never known he’d had.
And then he struck gold. Between two leaves of a book on harnessing the power of the beast, there was a business card with a pentacle and two lines of type:
Find peace within and see the moon.
213-555-9653
***
Leia was not what Oz had expected. She was young -- maybe 25 years old, but there was wisdom in her eyes. She owned a magic shop that at first glance catered to New Agers seeking candles, crystals, and natural soap. But the back room’s old books and the jars of strange smelling substances told him that she was the real deal.
He thought of Willow and how much she’d like this shop. She’d like Leia too. She was kind and beautiful and Oz sensed great power in her.
***
Close your eyes and relax. Deep cleansing breaths. See yourself standing before a cave. Step into the cave and follow the path before you...
***
Within himself, Oz met the wolf. Leia said he needed to accept it as part of him. But to know that Oz was dominant, not the wolf. She said he could learn to make the two one and to master control of the moon -- call the wolf or keep him at bay at will, regardless of the lunar cycle.
But she could not take him as a student for reasons she would not reveal.
“I know someone,” she assured him. “In Tibet. He will take you. He will show you peace.”
***
When Oz entered the temple his senses were overwhelmed. Incense burned his mouth and nostrils, bells tinkled, and a low murmur of words rolled from the tongues of men sitting before the altar. Oz went to leave and felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up into smiling eyes and relaxed.
***
“Ohm tare tu ... what?”
“Omtaretutareturesoha,” was rattled off at him.
Oz stared blankly. His teacher smiled. “Ohm tare ... tutare ... ture ... soha.” This time he spoke slowly, deliberately.
“Ohm tare tutare--” He looked up.
“Ture--”
“Tutare ture soha. Ohm tare tutare ture soha.” Oz smiled when Jamyang nodded that he’d finally said it right. He repeated the words a few more times and relaxed.
“Good. Now you will sit and recite it 100,000 times and see.”
“See what?” Oz knew it was a stupid question as soon as it came out. Jamyang just smiled. Oz nodded, entered the temple with his mat, and began his real journey.
“Ohm tare tutare ture soha. Ohm tare tutare ture soha. Ohm tare...”
***
Four days later, Oz emerged from the temple. The sun had set hours before. The sky was clear, the stars were bright, and the waxing moon reminded Oz that he had only a few more days before the moon would be full. Lama Jamyang Gampo had assured him that they would protect him at the time of the moon. It was too soon to expect control, but they hoped he might at least remember his experience this time.
***
Oz lay on the floor of his cell, rubbing his fur against the cool stone. There was a gentle humming coming from a few feet away. He felt warm and relaxed, as if he were soaking up heat from the rays of the moon. He felt safe. He bared his teeth at the moon and thought, This is the last time.
***
It didn’t take long to learn control. And it wasn’t much longer before he grew anxious to leave the monastery and reenter the world. He’d come all the way to Tibet; it was time to see the sights, to really live again.
***
The chapel was cool and dark, reminiscent of the temple he’d spent endless hours meditating in. He glanced around at the sparsely filled room -- a few old ladies, a young woman and her small child, and a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties tucked away in the back pew on the left. Oz slipped into the last row on the other side of the aisle and relaxed, running through his mantra in his head.
He slowly became aware of the words being spoken around him. A mantra of a different sort. “Hail Mary, full of grace...”
He smiled at the rosary in the hands of the man across from him and fingered the beads on his own wrist. Ohm tare tutare...
“...blessed is the fruit of thy woman, Jesus.”
...tutare soha. Ohm tare...
He zoned out for several minutes. Once he was calm again and in control, he felt the sensation of being watched. He glanced over to find the other man studying him. He blushed when Oz caught him then smiled before rising from the pew, kneeling in the aisle to cross himself, and walking out the door.
Oz waited a few minutes before following him outside. The man was standing in the bright sunshine staring at the mountains to the east.
***
Oz rolled over and smiled as David slept on peacefully beside him. He slid quietly from the bed and began unconsciously fingering his beads.
He slipped into his pants from the night before, grabbing the room key as he stepped outside into the soft morning light. He came to a stop in front of David’s car, leaning forward so he was balanced on his knees against the bumper, watching the sun rise over the Sierra.
He didn’t hear the door open as he ran through his mantra in his head. David wrapped his arms around Oz’s waist, saying nothing, careful not to disturb him until Oz finished his meditation and looked back at him. “Morning,” they both whispered at once.
“I have to go,” Oz whispered. “I’ve got to see someone...”
David nodded. “Stay in touch?”
“Yeah,” Oz turned in his arms and raised a hand to his cheek. “I will.” He wanted to believe it.
***
He stood in Giles’s doorway, looking at everyone. He knew he couldn’t just come back and have everything be okay again, but he hadn’t really prepared himself for the alternatives either. Willow. If he could just talk to her. Show her what he was capable of now. Show her how things could be. If only.
***
In a way he’d already moved on. And it’s not like he’d expected her to wait for him. But Oz really wasn’t prepared for Tara. It wasn’t that she was a woman -- after all, he’d seen Willow’s vampire twin. And hell, Oz wasn’t exactly a straight arrow himself. It was that Willow’d moved forward without him that was the surprise. But it was over, and after the Initiative, well, he didn’t think hanging around to figure things out was a constructive way to spend his time. Perhaps he’d go back to Tibet.
***
Pack life wasn’t Oz’s thing, not that he’d really expected that it would be. But even so, he’d expected to fare better than he had. In the first twenty-four hours he spent with the Laniger pack, he got into three fights -- each provoked by men who thought he was trying to steal their women. In truth, the only pack member he’d looked at twice had been a man who seemed just as much an outsider as Oz. After the fights -- two in human form, one as a wolf -- he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the pack’s position on the same-sex marriage debate.
Daniel -- whose name brought a welcome smile to Oz’s face -- introduced himself the second night, saving Oz the trouble of seeking him out without raising any hackles. He just walked up to Oz’s tent and said, “Hey.” The next four months were a blur. No one else challenged him -- he was left with Daniel -- but he never felt safe.
***
They lay in Oz’s sleeping bag, Daniel tracing the scars on Oz’s stomach from a fight with another pack a week earlier.
“You’re really gonna go?”
Oz stilled Daniel’s hand with his own. “Can’t do this anymore.” He squeezed the hand in his. “Come with me.”
Daniel looked up at him then closed his eyes and sighed. “You know I can’t. I can’t leave them.”
“They’ll find another doctor. This is no life for a wolf, much less for a human.”
Daniel sighed, “But my sister --”
“Bring her. I can keep her safe. I can teach her.”
Silence hung in the air until once again Daniel said, his voice barely a whisper, “I can’t.”
***
He flew into LAX and decided to see if anyone was around town. He found Devon fronting some crappy band in some equally crappy West Hollywood bar. They hung out for a few days -- Devon offered him a place to stay -- but they’d both known he’d decline.
That just wasn’t the life he needed anymore. He hitched his way south of the border to a little village on the Baja coast and settled down. After time with the pack, he needed to be alone again. His ability to not change hadn’t been particularly lauded there, and he was out of practice as a result. He needed to reestablish his center.
***
Willow’s call came as a surprise -- and not only because it wasn’t a “call” in the traditional sense. They’d been in touch a bit since he’d left Sunnydale the second time around, but it had been via letters.
California was long behind him when the Sunnydale Hellmouth was finally closed down for good. He’d been moving from one place to another down the Pacific coast of South America, taking odd jobs to get by. Keeping to himself as much as possible.
He knew Willow had survived Sunnydale’s destruction and was in England along with Giles. She’d shared a few basics about the rest of the gang, but that was it. Silence for nearly a year. Then, suddenly, she was in his head, telling him Giles needed some help with a werewolf Slayer. Oz had a gut feeling that this was what he’d been searching for for so long.
So he called Giles, got the details -- which were extraordinarily limited -- and boarded a plane for London. He stared out the window, fingering his beads, lips moving as he recited his mantra.
Ohm tare tutare soha.
The End
You don't have to have read DSOM to follow this. And for those who are wondering, I do hope to have the main story finished soon. I'd wanted to have it by the time this was posted, but obviously that's not happening. :)
Title: Moonlight Sonata
Author: Moosesal
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character: Oz
Rating: For all audiences.
Oz left Sunnydale in a daze. Lost within himself. Within the regret over what he’d done with Veruca, unable to explain his actions. He looked at Willow and saw hurt. Betrayal. A heart broken by his actions. And when he looked inside -- he saw nothing. Just empty blackness. He couldn’t do this anymore. He needed to know what he was, who he was.
So he left.
***
He rolled into L.A. and stayed with a friend of Devon’s for a few days. He sniffed around -- literally -- and met up with other weres. Through them he found an occult shop with a “special collection” on lycanthropy. He poured over the books with an enthusiasm he’d never known he’d had.
And then he struck gold. Between two leaves of a book on harnessing the power of the beast, there was a business card with a pentacle and two lines of type:
Find peace within and see the moon.
213-555-9653
***
Leia was not what Oz had expected. She was young -- maybe 25 years old, but there was wisdom in her eyes. She owned a magic shop that at first glance catered to New Agers seeking candles, crystals, and natural soap. But the back room’s old books and the jars of strange smelling substances told him that she was the real deal.
He thought of Willow and how much she’d like this shop. She’d like Leia too. She was kind and beautiful and Oz sensed great power in her.
***
Close your eyes and relax. Deep cleansing breaths. See yourself standing before a cave. Step into the cave and follow the path before you...
***
Within himself, Oz met the wolf. Leia said he needed to accept it as part of him. But to know that Oz was dominant, not the wolf. She said he could learn to make the two one and to master control of the moon -- call the wolf or keep him at bay at will, regardless of the lunar cycle.
But she could not take him as a student for reasons she would not reveal.
“I know someone,” she assured him. “In Tibet. He will take you. He will show you peace.”
***
When Oz entered the temple his senses were overwhelmed. Incense burned his mouth and nostrils, bells tinkled, and a low murmur of words rolled from the tongues of men sitting before the altar. Oz went to leave and felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up into smiling eyes and relaxed.
***
“Ohm tare tu ... what?”
“Omtaretutareturesoha,” was rattled off at him.
Oz stared blankly. His teacher smiled. “Ohm tare ... tutare ... ture ... soha.” This time he spoke slowly, deliberately.
“Ohm tare tutare--” He looked up.
“Ture--”
“Tutare ture soha. Ohm tare tutare ture soha.” Oz smiled when Jamyang nodded that he’d finally said it right. He repeated the words a few more times and relaxed.
“Good. Now you will sit and recite it 100,000 times and see.”
“See what?” Oz knew it was a stupid question as soon as it came out. Jamyang just smiled. Oz nodded, entered the temple with his mat, and began his real journey.
“Ohm tare tutare ture soha. Ohm tare tutare ture soha. Ohm tare...”
***
Four days later, Oz emerged from the temple. The sun had set hours before. The sky was clear, the stars were bright, and the waxing moon reminded Oz that he had only a few more days before the moon would be full. Lama Jamyang Gampo had assured him that they would protect him at the time of the moon. It was too soon to expect control, but they hoped he might at least remember his experience this time.
***
Oz lay on the floor of his cell, rubbing his fur against the cool stone. There was a gentle humming coming from a few feet away. He felt warm and relaxed, as if he were soaking up heat from the rays of the moon. He felt safe. He bared his teeth at the moon and thought, This is the last time.
***
It didn’t take long to learn control. And it wasn’t much longer before he grew anxious to leave the monastery and reenter the world. He’d come all the way to Tibet; it was time to see the sights, to really live again.
***
The chapel was cool and dark, reminiscent of the temple he’d spent endless hours meditating in. He glanced around at the sparsely filled room -- a few old ladies, a young woman and her small child, and a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties tucked away in the back pew on the left. Oz slipped into the last row on the other side of the aisle and relaxed, running through his mantra in his head.
He slowly became aware of the words being spoken around him. A mantra of a different sort. “Hail Mary, full of grace...”
He smiled at the rosary in the hands of the man across from him and fingered the beads on his own wrist. Ohm tare tutare...
“...blessed is the fruit of thy woman, Jesus.”
...tutare soha. Ohm tare...
He zoned out for several minutes. Once he was calm again and in control, he felt the sensation of being watched. He glanced over to find the other man studying him. He blushed when Oz caught him then smiled before rising from the pew, kneeling in the aisle to cross himself, and walking out the door.
Oz waited a few minutes before following him outside. The man was standing in the bright sunshine staring at the mountains to the east.
***
Oz rolled over and smiled as David slept on peacefully beside him. He slid quietly from the bed and began unconsciously fingering his beads.
He slipped into his pants from the night before, grabbing the room key as he stepped outside into the soft morning light. He came to a stop in front of David’s car, leaning forward so he was balanced on his knees against the bumper, watching the sun rise over the Sierra.
He didn’t hear the door open as he ran through his mantra in his head. David wrapped his arms around Oz’s waist, saying nothing, careful not to disturb him until Oz finished his meditation and looked back at him. “Morning,” they both whispered at once.
“I have to go,” Oz whispered. “I’ve got to see someone...”
David nodded. “Stay in touch?”
“Yeah,” Oz turned in his arms and raised a hand to his cheek. “I will.” He wanted to believe it.
***
He stood in Giles’s doorway, looking at everyone. He knew he couldn’t just come back and have everything be okay again, but he hadn’t really prepared himself for the alternatives either. Willow. If he could just talk to her. Show her what he was capable of now. Show her how things could be. If only.
***
In a way he’d already moved on. And it’s not like he’d expected her to wait for him. But Oz really wasn’t prepared for Tara. It wasn’t that she was a woman -- after all, he’d seen Willow’s vampire twin. And hell, Oz wasn’t exactly a straight arrow himself. It was that Willow’d moved forward without him that was the surprise. But it was over, and after the Initiative, well, he didn’t think hanging around to figure things out was a constructive way to spend his time. Perhaps he’d go back to Tibet.
***
Pack life wasn’t Oz’s thing, not that he’d really expected that it would be. But even so, he’d expected to fare better than he had. In the first twenty-four hours he spent with the Laniger pack, he got into three fights -- each provoked by men who thought he was trying to steal their women. In truth, the only pack member he’d looked at twice had been a man who seemed just as much an outsider as Oz. After the fights -- two in human form, one as a wolf -- he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the pack’s position on the same-sex marriage debate.
Daniel -- whose name brought a welcome smile to Oz’s face -- introduced himself the second night, saving Oz the trouble of seeking him out without raising any hackles. He just walked up to Oz’s tent and said, “Hey.” The next four months were a blur. No one else challenged him -- he was left with Daniel -- but he never felt safe.
***
They lay in Oz’s sleeping bag, Daniel tracing the scars on Oz’s stomach from a fight with another pack a week earlier.
“You’re really gonna go?”
Oz stilled Daniel’s hand with his own. “Can’t do this anymore.” He squeezed the hand in his. “Come with me.”
Daniel looked up at him then closed his eyes and sighed. “You know I can’t. I can’t leave them.”
“They’ll find another doctor. This is no life for a wolf, much less for a human.”
Daniel sighed, “But my sister --”
“Bring her. I can keep her safe. I can teach her.”
Silence hung in the air until once again Daniel said, his voice barely a whisper, “I can’t.”
***
He flew into LAX and decided to see if anyone was around town. He found Devon fronting some crappy band in some equally crappy West Hollywood bar. They hung out for a few days -- Devon offered him a place to stay -- but they’d both known he’d decline.
That just wasn’t the life he needed anymore. He hitched his way south of the border to a little village on the Baja coast and settled down. After time with the pack, he needed to be alone again. His ability to not change hadn’t been particularly lauded there, and he was out of practice as a result. He needed to reestablish his center.
***
Willow’s call came as a surprise -- and not only because it wasn’t a “call” in the traditional sense. They’d been in touch a bit since he’d left Sunnydale the second time around, but it had been via letters.
California was long behind him when the Sunnydale Hellmouth was finally closed down for good. He’d been moving from one place to another down the Pacific coast of South America, taking odd jobs to get by. Keeping to himself as much as possible.
He knew Willow had survived Sunnydale’s destruction and was in England along with Giles. She’d shared a few basics about the rest of the gang, but that was it. Silence for nearly a year. Then, suddenly, she was in his head, telling him Giles needed some help with a werewolf Slayer. Oz had a gut feeling that this was what he’d been searching for for so long.
So he called Giles, got the details -- which were extraordinarily limited -- and boarded a plane for London. He stared out the window, fingering his beads, lips moving as he recited his mantra.
Ohm tare tutare soha.
The End