Willow's calm voice does relax England, and he backs down, shoulders drooping and expression relaxing. He hadn't meant to yell. He's just so... damn... frustrated with everything. Mostly himself. Right now, he has no confidence.

He wishes he could rub his face. Or roll over. Or something other than lie there helpless and immobile.

"...I can't help," he repeats. "I haven't done anything other than get myself into trouble."