“Hi.”

Angel looked up from the book he was reading as Willow entered the room. He
smiled at the small young woman as he marked his place and set the book down
on his desk. It had been two weeks since Willow had returned to the world
of the speaking, and he had to admit that it still surprised him sometimes
to hear her say something. He also had to admit that he often found himself
prolonging even the most boring of conversations simply to hear her voice.
He had been mildly embarrassed when he first discovered he was doing so, but
that had changed when he realized that Spike was doing the same thing.
“Hey.”

“I’m not... interrupting you or anything, am I?” Willow asked. “I mean...”
The redhead trailed off, gesturing to the vampire’s book.

“What, this? I’ve read it at least two dozen times. You’re not
interrupting anything.” Knowing that his childe practically followed Willow
around everywhere these days and wondering where the blonde vampire was,
Angel glanced at the door Willow had come through, half-expecting to see
Spike. When he didn’t, he turned back to the redhead.
“Where are Faith and Spike?” he asked, purposely including the Slayer in his
question. The brunette had been staying with them since that evening two
weeks ago when she had happened upon Willow in the cemetery, and she didn’t
seem to be planning on leaving anytime soon.

“They went to the movies,” Willow replied as she sat down on the couch.

Angel swiveled his desk chair around so that he was facing the girl, and he
raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Spike and Faith went to the movies
together? I’m sorry, but I just can’t picture it.”

“I didn’t say they were going to see the same movie or anything,” the
redhead replied with a small grin. “They just went in the same car.
Yours.”

“Please let Faith have been the one driving,” Angel begged. Odd as it
seemed, the brunette Slayer was actually a rather good driver, unlike Spike,
who liked to run into roadside signs on occasion.

“I’m pretty sure she was.” After a moment, the smile faded from Willow’s
face, and she opened her mouth to say something, then quickly snapped it
shut.

“Willow, what is it? Is something wrong?”

With a small sigh, the redheaded witch, then shrugged. “It’s nothing,
really. Or... or maybe it is,” she said after a brief pause.

Angel watched in silence for a moment as she bit her lip thoughtfully.
“Willow, if something’s on your mind, then you can tell me about.”

“I know. It’s just...” Willow trailed off again, then began studying the
carpet. For the past couple of weeks, she had been trying to find a way to
bring up her worries about Angel’s behavior, but she didn’t know how to do
it. She was a bit worried about his mental health, but she certainly
couldn’t blurt out that she was afraid that he would completely lose it and
start taking advice from dolls like Drusilla did. She also wasn’t sure how
he would react to her mentioning his occasionally odd behavior, partly
because he very rarely exhibited it in front of her. That time she had
caught him in a daze, drawing a picture of her deceased friends was her only
experience with it, and Willow had a feeling that she never saw his lapses,
or whatever they were, because he was always so determined to be strong in
front of her. And she wondered if his determination to be the strong one
and show no weakness his front of her was part of the problem.

“Willow?” the vampire questioned, her silence worrying him.

Taking a deep breath, the redhead decided to start as simply as possible and
just hope they actually ended up really talking about things. She looked up
so that she met his eyes. “Are you okay?”

The seriousness in her voice and on her face made it clear that this was not
just part of the ‘hi, how’re you doing?’ part of a daily conversation. She
was worried about him, and he was pretty sure he knew why. “Why do you
ask?”

“Because I care about you. Angel... Right now, I have three people in this
world, and I care about all of you, even Faith. That means I worry about
you when something’s wrong, and I know something’s wrong.” She stopped
there, hoping he would speak, but the silence between them stretched on for
what seemed an eternity.

“Of course there’s something wrong, Willow. You know what I did,” the
vampire finally said.

“I know what Angelus did,” she corrected. “I miss them, too.”

“Yes, but you didn’t kill them,” Angel managed. He didn’t know why he was
talking to Willow about this. He didn’t want to talk about this. But maybe
he needed to talk about it. “I've killed people, Willow. I’m a murderer.”

“And so are Faith and Spike. If you’d take a moment to think about it,
you’d realize that of the four people living in this house, I’m the only one
who’s never killed somebody.” She paused then, more than a little unsettled
by that statement. Sighing, she tried again. “And that’s really not the
point. The point it, yes they are dead, but it wasn’t really you.”

“Yes, it was!”

“Damn it, Angel, why do you insist on doing this to yourself?” Willow cried,
standing up to stare down at the vampire.

“Because I deserve it!” the vampire nearly yelled, standing up himself. “I
still had my soul when I killed them!”

“You were drugged; you weren’t in control!”

“Do you really think that matters? I still murdered them, and I had my soul
at the time. I killed them. I would have killed you, too, if the drug
hadn’t worn off in time.”

“But you didn’t kill me. You took care of me instead.”

“I’m the one who hurt you in the first place. And don’t tell me it wasn’t
really me, because soul or not, the demon is always there.”

“I know that. The demon’s there, and sometimes, I look at you, and I can
see you fighting it. I’ve seen you fight your demon, and I’ve seen you beat
it.”

“Yeah, well, I obviously lost that night.”

“Maybe you did. I’m sure the drugs helped, though.”

Angel sighed as he sat on the edge of his desk. “Sometimes... sometimes I
just want to end it... I just want to go out and meet the sunrise...”

“You’d give up just like that?” Willow asked, tears springing to her eyes.
The thought of Angel turning to dust caused her stomach to clench. “We all
screw up, Angel. We all fall down. And when it happens, sometimes what we
do is so awful and terrible, we just want to die. Or we want to give in to
the darkness. But we *can’t*, because that’s just losing; it’s just giving
up, and that means we don’t care.”

“Willow-”

“What about the people you killed? Buffy and the others? Don’t you think
you owe it to them-”

“Don’t say that! That isn’t fair!”

“Oh, and telling me you’ve thought about killing yourself is? Why didn’t
you do it that night after the drug wore off and you remembered what had
happened?”

“You needed me.”

“And now I don’t?” Willow practically screamed. “How can you even think a
thing like that? I need you with me, Angel. You, and Spike, and Faith...
you’re all I have.”

“Willow-”

“What if I’d given up? What if I had decided that living without the others
was too hard, and instead of getting where I am now, I just gave up...
walked out in front of a car, or slit my wrists... whatever? I could have
gone outside during the day and done it, and you couldn’t have stopped me.
How would you have felt?”

“It would’ve killed me,” the vampire replied, chilled to the bone by the
redhead’s words.

“And that’s how I’d feel if I lost you.”

“Sometimes I think I’m losing, Willow,” Angel whispered, his voice strained.

“I know you do. And you never ask for help.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“How many of us really do? You have to fight, Angel. But you can’t fight
alone. You have to lean on the people who care about you, just like we lean
on you. You helped me when I really wanted to give up. Please, Angel, let
me help you. Just let me be here for you, and don’t try to hide it from me
when you’re hurting. Please,” she implored, offering her hand to him,
praying he would accept what she wanted to give.

After a moment, he reached out his own hand and entwined his fingers with
hers.