Prologue
Angel struggled futilely against the two vampires that held him captive. Every movement was painfully to his bruised body but the fear he felt as he saw Damian grab Willow by her neck overrode every other feeling. Without realizing it, Angel's face vamped and a low growl rose from his throat.
'Did you really think you could win?" Damian asked the question with childlike glee and satisfaction. He knew he had his enemies right where he wanted them. He leaned close to Willow's ear, addressing her "I've killed people stronger and smarter than you, and I've been doing it for centuries. What made you think you'd be different? You're not the first who's died by my hands on a vengeance mission. You should have just forgotten about her death. Then perhaps you would have remained alive. Oh well, too late for regrets now. Your lover over there will witness your death, and he'll have to live with that for the rest of his tortured existence. Never will he forget the image of your death, or the vampire who brought it about." Damian dropped his voice to a whisper, so that only Willow could hear his next words. "Buffy begged for mercy before I killed her. Will you beg, bright eyes?" He drank in the terror his words evoked before lowering his lips to Willow's neck.
As his fangs pierced the delicate skin of Willow's throat, Angel thrashed violently against his captives. Angel screamed out her name as Damian tore her throat out. The blood that poured forth sprayed outward and Angel felt himself covered in the sticky liquid.
Unable to control their hold on Angel, one of the vampires picked up a piece of scrap metal from the factory floor and knocked Angel over the head with it. The last thing Angel saw before losing consciousness was Willow's lifeless body falling to the ground.
Angel wasn't sure how much time had passed when he finally regained consciousness. Without even looking around, Angel knew the factory was empty. There wasn't a sound to be heard besides that of the rats moving about. Angel began to push himself up onto all fours when he noticed that he was lying in a pool of blood. At first he wondered if it was his but when he looked up he noticed the source laying less than three feet away from him, her slight body crumpled on the floor like that of a discarded rag doll.
Crawling on his hands and knees, Angel reached her side and scooped her into his arms. Pulling her close to his chest, Angel tried the best he could to wipe the blood off of her face. Her eyelids law heavy against her cheek. Her expression was so serene she could have been sleeping. There was no trace of the violence that had been done to her. She looked as beautiful as he had ever seen her, which made the pain of losing her all the more stronger. He knew that he loved her. It had taken her death for him to admit it but it was no less true for it. For years he had held on to the memory of his love for Buffy and in the process he had blinded himself to a new love. A love which had been there for awhile, but one which he had never had the pleasure of indulging in, and now never would.
Surprised, Angel felt tears staining his cheeks. He hadn't realized he had begun to cry. The last time he had given in to the indulgence of tears had been four years ago when Buffy had been murdered. Like then, he cried for a lost love, only this time it was for a love that he would never be able to share. He would never be able to tell Willow how he felt. She would never know how grateful he was to have known her, nor would she know just how much he loved her.
Angel was so consumed by his grief he failed to notice the figure standing next to him until he spoke. "She was a beautiful soul. The world will truly miss her." Whistler knelt down beside Angel, removing his hat out of respect. "Destiny had its hand on her shoulder. She was to have done great things."
"She still can, " Angel whispered.
Whistler shook his head. "No, she can't. Her destiny runs with God now."
"No. It doesn't have to be that way." He looked at Whistler, unashamed by the tears in his eyes. "You can bring her back. She doesn't deserve to die this young. She's never done anything but good in her life. It's not fair!"
"You know, you're the last person I ever expected to hear speak so naively. You disappoint me my friend."
"I love her," Angel offered the confession as if it were the key to bringing Willow back.
Whistler stopped smiling, "I know. And so did she."
"How could she know? I never got a chance to tell her."
"She knew in her heart. And where she is now, she knows."
'That's not good enough." Ignoring Whistler, Angel turned his attention back to the body in his arms. He pressed his forehead against hers, marveling at how warm her skin still was. "If only we had stayed in Sunnydale. If only I had talked her out of tracking down Damian. If only I had told her how I felt long ago. We could have been happy together. She would still be alive."
Whistler listened quietly to Angel's fervent regrets and his repetitive mumbled confessions of love. Whistler allowed Angel his time for grieving. It was the least he could do for him.
Angel laid in the dark of the room he and Willow had shared. Three days had passed since her death and Angel had spent every moment since then locked in the room. Angel would never have guessed the depth of depression that would begin to consume him. Angel didn't even have the will left to kill himself though it was the only conceivable end to his despair.
Whistler let himself into the hotel room after it became obvious that Angel wasn't going to respond to his knocking. "S'okay man, I'll let myself in." Whistler stepped into the room, taking in the darkness and the immobile figure of Angel on the bed. "Lucky for you I'm a demon and darkness doesn't affect me cause if had tripped over any of this shit you had piled on the floor I'd have to kill you." Whistler stepped over a broken lamp. "Way to trash the room. You do realize of course that you're gonna have to pay for all this."
Angel kept his back turned, ignoring Whistler's approach to the bed. "I've got to say, I've never seen you this bad before bro. Not even when I first came to you." When Angel continued not to answer Whistler pressed on. "You know this isn't how Willow would have wanted things to be right."
Angel tensed up. "No, she wouldn't."
"Well, at least I've got you talking. Look, I've been doing some thinking, and well, I wouldn't do this for anyone but you. You helped me out with the slayer thing all those years ago so I figure I should do something for you." Confused, Angel turned to face Whistler. "It's dangerous though. If you're not careful you can alter the destiny of the world, and I'm not saying this to be melodramatic. I couldn't send you back to save Buffy from being killed- that was part of her destiny- but Willow's death wasn't planned- you can go back and fix that. You've just gotta be sure you don't alter anything else."
"Are you saying you can send me back in time?"
"It's not what you're thinking. It's not like that Back To the Future shit where there's gonna be the past you and the future you and if you meet the world will explode. That's not the way time works. There's only one Angel, one soul. But as time progresses your soul expands as its awareness grows. I can send some of your soul's awareness back to a former you. Your soul of the present will share it's awareness with your past soul, though you won't realize consciously it's happening. Look, the logistics of it are complicated, but basically you'll be able to alter the future by changing the past. If you can tell Willow you love her then she won't face Damian and she won't be killed. The future will be changed for the better, if you ask me."
Angel blinked, the possibilities of what Whistler was proposing not quite sinking in. "You mean I can save Willow's life just by telling her that I love her? But that's easy!" Angel shot up from the bed, bouncing with childlike exuberance. "Well come on, send me back already."
"Hold on their cowboy, it's not that simple. You can't just go back their and declare your love for her the second you see her. I don't even think you'd be able to. Your soul may have a greater awareness but it won't be conscious until the right moment. The time in which fate splits and the path chosen will seal yours and Willow's destiny. Only at that moment will you be able to confess your love to Willow and change the course of fate."
"So basically my soul will just know when the time is right? And what if it doesn't?"
"It's your best chance Angel, I never said it was a perfect solution, it's a gamble. I would think you'd be willing to take it."
"Of course I am, so how do we do this?"
Whistler studied Angel's enthusiastic face. "I can't believe I'm risking this for you. All right, all you need to do is go to sleep. I'll guide your soul into the past. When it's done you'll wake up and if you're successful, well, you'll know."
Angel lay back on the bed. He had never been more anxious to fall asleep in his life. As he began to drift off he realized he hadn't thanked Whistler. 'Thank you Whistler, for everything."
Whistler smiled, "Just don't fail Angel. Willow's counting on you." Those were the last words Angel heard before he fell into sleep.
Part 1