Willow looked straight ahead there was a sword – a dangerous, sharp and pointy sword in front of her face it was plunged through Rak's chest Willow let out a sigh of relief she was panting, breathless – he fell to the ground.

Willow woke up from her dream she wished it was reality with Rak dead she wouldn't have anything to worry about.

"What happened?" asked Willow – she was worried

"They're gone; you couldn't save them, naughty Willow!"

"No, Tara!"

"I tricked you! Actually, none of them are dead well until now you just chose Tara – well mere mortal, she will be safe though I might invite her for – tea if you know what I mean!"

"But, Oz?"

"Oh I am so sorry Willow but he's gone – actually that's a lie I don't care and I'm not sorry well I best be of I have people to treat!"

And with a click of the fingers he was gone – completely like all the damage he had done didn't matter well, I suppose that to him it didn't matter…

"No, why stop don't go where's Oz!"

Willow broke down there and then he was gone – it was her fault.

6 months later:

At Oz's funeral everyone was sharing memories of how great he was – Willow was stuck at home – she was still ill but had no choice but to look after Tara she was on crutches after her "accident" nothing was the same Willow was still wondering whether to go to Oz's memorial service but the guilt would be unbearable…