Angel placed flowers on each grave, a row of headstones that seemed endless,
each marble marker etched with a name that served as a constant reminder of
what he had done. So many people... And it had only taken him one night to
do so much damage.

One wrong choice... A drugged drink, and he had done it all, killing so
many, causing so much pain.

Reverently, the vampire traced the name on each headstone as he made his way
down the row of graves, silently pleading for forgiveness at each one as
tears ran down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he finally stood up and left the cemetery,
headed for his car, ready to go back home.

Ready to go back to her.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Less than an hour later, Angel stood in the doorway, watching as Willow
played the piano. Her small hands flew over the keys, never missing a note,
and he closed his eyes, taking in the beautiful sound of the song she was
playing. He’d have to ask her what it was. Of course, she wouldn’t tell
him.

She never did.

It had been three months since that terrible night, since the night when
Angelus had roamed free and killed nearly everyone that Willow had cared
about. Three months since Angelus had severely injured the slender redhead
and nearly killed his own childe. When Angel had finally regained his
senses and recalled what he had done, the vampire had wanted nothing more
than to stay outside and wait for the sun to rise, but he knew he couldn’t.
He didn’t deserve to have the peace that death would bring him.

Besides that, Willow and Spike needed him.

Spike was still confined to a wheelchair, the injuries he had sustained in
his fight with Angelus having resulted in a broken back. He was healing,
albeit slowly. And, as much as the younger vampire hated to admit it, he
needed his sire’s help.

“Contemplating suicide again, Peaches?” the blonde vampire asked as he
rolled his wheelchair next to Angel in the doorway, stopping to watch the
silent redhead as she continued to play, seemingly oblivious to the two
vampires at the door. He never tired of watching her.

“I don’t deserve to live,” Angel said simply, his eyes downcast. After a
moment, he raised them again, once more fixing his gaze on Willow. His only
joy... His greatest sorrow. He adored her, admired her. She was still
damaged from that night, but she was doing her best to make it through. But
it still broke his heart to see her... to see her and be reminded of what he
had done.

“Of course you don’t deserve to live. I could have told you that a long
time ago, you bloody wanker,” Spike replied harshly. “And if we’re being
completely honest here, I probably don’t deserve to live, either. Face it,
neither one of us has exactly been a saint over the past century or so.
Unfortunately, that little girl in there has no one besides you and me, and
I’m not exactly capable of protecting her at the moment. You owe her.”

“I know I do,” Angel whispered before pushing himself away from the door and
walking into the room, tears in his eyes. He didn’t want to talk to Spike
anymore. They would just end up yelling at each other, and that always
upset Willow.

He didn’t want to upset Willow.

Though she was improving every day, the tiny redhead hadn’t spoken since
that night. It wasn’t that she couldn’t... It was that she wouldn’t. Her
doctors had tried for weeks to get her to speak, until Angel grew sick of
seeing her shy away from the people who poked and prodded her and took her
to the safety of his home. He had hoped that Willow would talk once he had
taken her away from that place, but she hadn’t. She had simply continued on
as she had been, seemingly content to stay in her silent world.

She didn’t shrink away from him when he sat down beside her on the piano
bench; her fingers never even slowed as she finished her song. Willow had
never once flinched away from him, not even when she had regained
consciousness to find him hovering over her, tears streaming down his face
on that night that now seemed so long ago.

She had known.

She had known that it was Angel, and not Angelus, that was peering down at
her with such concern and guilt. And, for some reason that he didn’t think
he would ever understand, she had trusted him to take care of her. She was
dependent on him, and, as much as he wanted the relief of death, he couldn’t
do that to her. She had already lost so many... Buffy... Xander... Giles...
and so many others. He couldn’t take himself away from her as well. He
couldn’t cause her more grief, more pain. He had already caused her far too
much of that. So he had stayed.

He had stayed, even buying a house just outside of town for the three of
them, and he took care of Spike, knowing that one day his childe would walk
again, thanks to his vampiric healing ability. He endured the other
vampire’s hatred, believing that it was deserved, and they had both accepted
the knowledge that they were stuck with each other indefinitely, because
neither one wanted to leave Willow. They were all she had left... And she
was all they had left.

Angel turned to look at the redhead sitting beside him on the piano bench,
and a ghost of a smile appeared on his haunted face as she placed her hands
over his, guiding his fingers to the piano keys. She applied gentle
pressure to his index finger, and he pressed down with it, hitting the key
below. The sound rang out, and Willow moved onto the next note, silently
coaching him on what note went next. He had learned three songs that way,
and he was willing to spend an eternity doing just that if it was what
Willow wanted.

Silently, Spike wheeled himself into the room, watching his sire and the
tiny redhead at the piano. He had originally planned to stake the other
vampire as soon as he found himself able to care for Willow on his own, but
he knew that was no longer an option. The fragile redhead needed Angel, and
not even Spike was heartless enough to take him from her. She had already
lost so much... too much.

And Spike loved her far too much to hurt her anymore.

Sighing softly, Spike settled back into his chair, his eyes trained on the
couple at the piano. Willow was carefully guiding Angel’s fingers through
the song, her eyes fixed on the music in front of her. Angel, on the other
hand, was watching Willow. And it was then that Spike realized something.
He wasn’t the only one who had fallen in love with the redhead.

Angel had, too.