Summary: Oz's pov. Over the summer, he has to deal with something that he doesn't like. (Amy, the queen of the "no kidding!")
Spoilers: Through the third season.
Disclaimer: Joss made the characters depressing. I figured, why not me too?
The song at the end is by Restless Heart.
Rating: PG
Many thousands of thanks to Tracy for beta-ing, and Laura for the lyrics.
And to both of them for just being so cool.

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She Cries At Night was nominated for 1999 Golden Frog Awards in the categories of Best representation of any character other than Willow Rosenberg (for Oz), Best Tear Jerker/Sadfic and Best Quote/Line.

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She's been crying in her sleep since he left.

She doesn't know she's doing it, and when she wakes up in the morning, she seems to feel fine, but I hear her every night; sobbing raggedly, whispering his name. For the first few weeks of that, I tried to tell myself that it was just because they had never been parted for that long before. The first time Willow had gone for any length of time without Xander was when they were four and hadn't met yet.

The first time I woke up to it, a sad lullaby, she was clutching at me and crying. I tried to soothe her as best I could, but she refused to acknowledge my comfort. And then, when I told her about it in the morning, she smiled at me, confused.

"Were you dreaming?" Willow had finally asked.

"No, I was pretty sure you were. A nightmare, maybe."

She shook her head. "Nope. I actually had pretty good dreams last night," she told me before kissing me lightly on the lips. "I'm so glad that my parents are gone and I can spend every night here." She paused. "You're glad too, right?"

I laughed. "Of course I'm glad," I said, pulling her onto my lap. And thus ended the conversation and all the thoughts that surrounded it.

I never tried to bring it up again.

Devon tells me that I should dump her, in that blind way he has. I don't even know why I go to him at all, not lately. His girlfriends fly by so quick that it's surprising his prize-winning hair hasn't been singed.

I just want to be with her. And as much as I love Willow, think I will always love Willow, I hate her tears with equal emotion. I hate that she speaks his name in my bed, even if she doesn't know it. I hate that she's so precious and small and that I can't resent her for anything.

Xander's coming back in two weeks. In two weeks, she'll have him back and the tears will stop. I try to tell myself that I'm cool with it, that I look forward to it, even, but I don't buy my excuses. I keep remembering their goodbye.

She had sobbed in his arms for a full half-hour, and he had kissed her head more times than I could count, assuring her that he would be back, letting his own tears fall. I tried to think that it was the way twins who were being separated would act, but it's not. Well, maybe it is, but this is still different from that situation.

And then I tried to convince myself that it was because she was worried about him. Her oldest friend, dearest friend. The boy she had grown up loving. Worried that he might not come back. But that's no longer an issue, because he's called her twice a week, every week that he's been gone.

Willow still cries after he phones. She still shivers, naked next to me, covered by the warmest blanket. She still says his name softly, as if it's a secret that she's wanting to keep. And then I'm forced to think about their goodbye again.

Oh, not about the tears and the kisses, though those scare me to no end. My thoughts turn to what else they did, what I'm sure is more dangerous than any amount of kisses or tears could be. They looked at each other.

Xander had taken his hands and placed them on her cheeks, setting his forehead against hers. They stared into each others eyes for I don't know how long. Just looking. As if telling each other what they were thinking through their eyes. As if reading the other's thoughts. As if they were connected in a way that no one could touch. A way that no one else could achieve with either of them.

They probably do have that connection, I don't know.

And I had watched on in concealed terror that those would be the last moments that Willow would be in my life. I saw Buffy's uneasy gaze wander from me to Xander and Willow, and then back to me again. I heard Giles clearing his throat uncomfortably as the stare went on and on.

And I knew, somewhere deep down, that it was only the beginning.

God, if that hurt, how am I going to react when he steps out of his car and the tears and kisses and stares begin again?

I'm terrified out of my mind. Even as I hold Willow and stroke her arm as she cries, even as the crescent moon dips into my range of sight and the night starts to fade into a blue, daytime glow, I'm terrified and confused. What am I supposed to say, if anything? Am I supposed to let it go on, supposed to ignore her obvious feelings for him?

I've asked myself all of these questions in the past two months. And I've come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter what I'm supposed to do. I'm simply going to do anything and everything in my power to keep Willow in love with me, for as long as possible.

If she weren't in love with me at all, we'd both know it and everything would be a lie. But I know from her kisses every morning and the warm, shy smile she gives me after we make love and the way she laughs when she thinks I'm saying something witty. I know that she loves me because of all of those things. I can't see her stopping any time soon. I just wonder if she knows now that she loves him, also, at least to some degree.

I wish I had all of her heart. But I don't. Not yet at least.

And as all of these thoughts wander by in my mind, I calmly kiss her sleep-warmed mouth and pet her hair back.

And I wait for the tears to stop.

The End

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**She cries at night
And she doesn't think that I can hear her.
She tries to hide
all the fears she feels inside.
So I pray, this time
I can be the man that she deserves.
'Cause I die a little each time
When she cries.

So I pray this time
I can be the man that she deserves.
'Cause I die a little each time
When she cries...**