Title: We All Fall Down
                  Author: Karen U E-mail: ksu2@j... Rating: PG Disclaimer: BtVS, Angel and all the shows' characters belong to Joss
                  Whedon,  the WB, and Fox Distribution: Charity, anyone else who has my stuff and actually wants this,  otherwise,
                  just ask Spoilers: Eternity Summary: Willow and Angel talk... Feedback: I love it; however, all flames will be given to
                  Angelus (and do  you really want to upset him?) Notes: This is the eighth in the 'A Night to Forget' series, it comes
                  after "Long Story Short" More Notes: Spike isn't in this installment, but he'll be back if I ever get  rid of my writer's
                  block and write more For everyone that still remembers this series

                  ~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

                  “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.

                  ~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

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