Title: Hideaway

Author: Jeanny

Disclaimer: I don't own the Buffy characters, I don't own the CCR songs or song lyrics, I don't own John Fogerty, and I don't own the bathroom on the right (little mondegreen humor there)

Distribution: I don't mind, just credit me and let me know where it's going.

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Season 5 Through Into The Woods.

Feedback: Please. jeannygrrl@hotmail.com

Summary: The final meeting of the self-proclaimed Sunnydale Rejects Club, Riley and Oz. Warning: Character Death. Based on Hazel's challenge. Song fic, too, my very first. The lyrics ~ and the fic title ~ come from the song (Wish I Could) Hideaway by Creedence Clearwater Revival. Words and music by the great John C. Fogerty.

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I guess it was a natural thing. In spite of the circumstances under which we first met, admittedly not the best. Monster hunter and bonafide monster, no big surprise there would be problems, especially in Sunnydale. It was only when we met the second time, called a truce and got to talking, that I realized how much we had in common.

We both think the best kind of date was a picnic. Food and a blanket, just enough blend of casual and romance. He loves classic rock as much as I do, especially CCR. We share lots of favorite things. Dogs more than cats. Moonlight, ironically enough. Irony, luckily enough.

Well, I know you really never
Liked the way it all goes down
Go on, hideaway.

And of course, let's not forget the biggest thing we have in common: being rejected by the women that we loved. Women who were back in Sunnydale, fighting evil. Without us. We were the rejected, cast out...well, sure, we both left on our own, but it's not how we felt. So that's really what kinda made us stick together. Sunnydale Rejects Club. Nightly meetings, only one topic on the agenda. Old business. Buffy and Willow. Willow and Buffy. Put on some CCR and talk. Fortunate Son. Tombstone Shadow. Wish I Could Hideaway. Bad Moon Rising. Like I said, irony.

Sometimes we would just talk about the things we loved about them. How extraordinarily smart and fiercely loyal Willow could be. How Buffy could defend the world against the powers of darkness in a tank top and spike heels but was lost when it came to operating a garbage disposal. Other times we traded our innermost feelings almost like baseball cards. 'Here's how it felt when Dracula had Buffy enthralled, by the way that guy looks nothing like Gary Oldman.' 'Thanks, man. I think Willow's in way over her head with this magick thing and it scares me more than anything, even the wolf.' Then we talk about the dark things that we did, the rush of the bloodsucking and of being a wolf unchained. The lies, the loss. It's gotten so I know his story as well as my own, could tell you everything single detail about his last days in Sunnydale. He could tell you mine. The smell of the van. The sound of the helicopter. And we both would say the same thing in the end. Nothing has ever hurt so much.

If Buffy and Willow only knew, what would they say about this? Sometimes I think they'd be glad we're together, helping each other through everything. Other times I hear her voice whispering in my ear, telling me she's getting on with her life and I should get on with mine, stop clinging to the past. We've talked about that too.

I still dream of going back, seeing her again. He does too; I've heard him whisper her name at night. That's one thing we don't talk about. We have a pact. Sometimes he calls it our mission statement, just cause he knows I'll smile. Don't go back to Sunnydale. I haven't even considered breaking that vow until tonight. You see, something woke me tonight. Maybe it was the moonlight through the window, something on the wind, some strange magic in the air. But I know something's wrong. She's in trouble, and she's about to do something noble, something so like her...but this time she's not going to make it. So in a moment I'm going to wake my friend, and we're going to get in the car and drive non-stop until we see that sign. Welcome to Sunnydale. And I'm going to pray I'm gonna be in time to save her. Please God let me save her.

"What's wrong?" he says, sitting up quickly. He woke up so fast, I think he senses it too. It hits me before I can answer. It no longer matters. She's gone. My love is gone. My reason for everything is gone. I feel it inside of me, building, rising.

"She's dead."

"No," he said, but he sees the truth in me. I fall to my knees; the pain is so intense. He knows what's happening, he can read it in my eyes, but he doesn't move. He's waiting for me to share this last thing. One last trading card. One final secret.

"All my life, I've never...Riley, I can't, Willow's gone..." That's all I manage before the change begins. I told him he should keep the tranq gun by his bed, but he stopped doing that months ago. Told me he trusted me. One more regret he won't live to regret, cause it’s happening fast and he won’t have time to run. Wish I'd told him I was sorry, how much our friendship has meant, all that stuff I hope he already knows. Too late to say it now. There's a bad moon on the rise.

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