Chapter Text
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Prologue
2006
They were losing.
Badly.
Willow refused to think about all the losses they’d suffered. She couldn’t do that and still function. It would break her and she was the last line of defense. Her mind, however, had other ideas.
Xander. Buffy. Faith. Kennedy. Vi. Rona. Giles. Riley. Sam. Graham. Angel. Spike. Illyria. Connor. Dead. They were all dead and she couldn’t save them and it was all-
“NO!” Willow screamed, releasing a burst of energy from her hands and sending one of the demons flying back through the portal that had opened. It wasn’t her fault and she would not take the blame for this. They had all done their parts. They had all known the risks. Just because they’d managed to survive for the last ten years, temporary deaths aside for some of them; didn’t mean they were always going to win. That really was not a comforting thought at all.
She heard Dawn cry out from behind her and turned just in time to catch the younger girl. They sank down to their knees and Willow cradled Dawn in her arms. There was an arrow sticking out of Dawn’s midsection. Willow blinked at it dumbly then looked up and met Dawn’s pain-filled eyes.
“It’s poisoned,” Dawn gasped out.
“Shit,” Willow whispered. The battle continued to rage on around them, but Willow only had eyes for her friend. “Dawnie,” she said, her voice breaking, “I- I don’t know what to do.”
Dawn gave her a ghost of a smile. “I think it’s time to pack it in, Wills. I don’t think we’re gonna win this one.” She whimpered in pain and clutched at Willow’s hand.
Willow pressed a kiss to her forehead then tucked Dawn’s head under her chin. She closed her eyes and prayed.
”Oh, Goddess, hear my plea. Show me the way so that my family and friend’s deaths are not in vain. Please, Mother, I beg you help me.”
Willow felt a hand on the back of her head and jerked up to see who had touched her. She blinked at the ethereal figure standing before her. The sounds of battle were muffled now and as she looked around she noticed that everything had gone a little hazy. Dawn laid peacefully in her arms, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow, but steady.
“You asked for me, my daughter,” the woman standing before her said; her voice resonant with power, but still somehow gentle.
Willow cleared her throat. “Gaia?” The Goddess nodded. “Huh.” Not the most eloquent of responses, but she was having a bit of a day.
Gaia smiled down at her. “You and yours have fought long and hard to save that which is Mine. I thank you for that.” Her smooth brow creased in sorrow as she looked around at the destruction. She gestured to the battlefield. “This was not supposed to happen. It is not yet time for The End.” She looked back down at Willow. “If you had the opportunity to change things, my daughter, would you?”
Willow licked her lips. “Um, that’s a loaded question, Mother. My first instinct is to say, “Yes! Of course!” But I’ve seen firsthand what happens when free will is tampered with. I…I don’t want to make those mistakes again.”
Gaia smiled in satisfaction. “Good answer. Here is my proposition: I will send you back to a certain point in time and you will be given a chance to change the course of your current history, to prevent this devastation from occurring. Free Will will remain in play. It is up to you how you nudge things in a different direction, but be mindful of your past mistakes.”
Willow thought it over. If she refused she was dead. Dawn was the only one of her family and friends still breathing and she was dying. Without them, not even the rest of the world was enough to keep her going. Oh, her body might continue on, but her soul would die and that would probably be very bad for everyone. There was really only one answer she could give.
“I accept.”
Gaia nodded and knelt down beside Willow and Dawn. The Goddess took one of Dawn’s limp hands and slashed her palm with a small dagger that appeared out of thin air. Dawn didn’t even flinch. Gaia made a cut to her own hand then looked at Willow expectantly. Willow swallowed and held out her hand, wincing a little at the burn of the cut. Gaia mixed their blood together then painted several sigils in the air. Clouds rolled up and lightning started to crackle in the sky. She took Dawn’s limp form from Willow then kissed the witch chastely on the lips.
“I give you My Blessing, Willow Rosenberg, and wish you safe journey. May your quest be successful, my daughter.”
The wind picked up and Willow could feel her feet leaving the ground. She grasped for Dawn and pressed a teary kiss to her cheek. “I love you, Dawnie,” she whispered. “Hopefully, this will work.” She looked at her Goddess and gave Her a tremulous smile. “Thank you, Mother.”
Gaia nodded regally as Willow left the ground. This was nothing like teleporting, she thought to herself.
“Willow?” Gaia said softly.
“Yes Mother?”
“The landing is going to hurt.”
“Awesome,” Willow muttered as she was sucked into the swirling vortex above them.
~*~
Gaia wasn’t lying.
The landing hurt like a bitch.
Willow had time to register the feeling of rain before she blessedly passed out. She came to, to the sensation of being carried. She looked around blearily and her eyes reluctantly focused on the person carrying her.
She blinked at him groggily. “An-angel?” Oh wow. Her head felt big. It’d been a while since she’d had a concussion, but she still remembered the feeling. This seemed to be a fairly mild one, but still…owie. She felt him tense and tried to brace herself to be dropped.
“How do ye know my name,” he asked gruffly.
What was up with that accent? She frowned up at him. “It’s me, Angel. Willow.”
He scowled at her. “I know no one by that name. I’ve never seen ye before in me life.”
Willow blinked a few times and tried to get a better look at her friend in the watery moonlight. His hair was long, almost brushing his shoulders. And from what she could make out from her position in his arms, he was wearing a light-coloured linen poet shirt with a dark waistcoat over it. Combine the old-fashioned clothing with the accent and she came to one conclusion.
“What year is it?” Oh, please Goddess, let it be after 1898. Don’t let her be dealing with Angelus. Not that dealing with a newly-souled Angel meant she was safe, but she would have a better chance.
They arrived at, well, calling it a cabin would have been generous, but they arrived at Angel’s current home before he answered her. Once they were inside he set her down in the only chair and went about the room lighting lanterns and stoking the fire in the fireplace. Once he was done, he turned around and finally spoke.
“The year is 1903. We’re in The Black Forest in Germany. What witchcraft sent you here, Willow? Ye were tossed down to earth like an Angel cast from Heaven in the midst of one of the worst storms I’ve ever seen. How do ye know me?”
Willow shivered in relief and cold. He was Angel. That was so of the good. And hey, he’d already brought up witchcraft, so this might go better than she hoped. He was a souled vampire for Gaia’s sake; a little bit of time travel shouldn’t be all that shocking, right? Although it did raise the questions of why Angel and why now? She knew Angel had an important destiny, but could he really be that crucial? Memories of The Judge, Acathla, Jasmine, Wolfram & Hart, and The Black Thorn came immediately to mind and Willow decided to stop thinking for a few minutes.
She startled when Angel handed her a towel and a folded shirt. “Sorry. I’ll just wait outside for ye to change. Ye can wrap up in a blanket after. Then we’ll talk.”
She wasted no time stripping off her wet clothes. The towel was rough, but served its purpose and also soaked up most of the moisture from her hair. She slipped the shirt over her head and was relieved it was almost long enough to be a dress on her. She tightened the laces at the neck as much as she could to keep it from slipping off her shoulders. Then she stood in front of the fire for a few long moments trying to gather her thoughts. Eventually, she gave it up for a lost cause and called Angel back in.
Willow looked at him over her shoulder and watched myriad expressions run across his face. Longing. A hint of lust. Confusion. Frustration. Fear. And a tiny smidgen of hope thrown in for good measure. His face eventually settled for a glower and he crossed his arms as he said, “Talk.”
She gave him a half-smirk. He wasn’t the Angel she had known, but he was still Angel. “It’s a long story.”
Angel smirked back at her. “I’ve got nothing but time.”
Willow sobered at that and returned to the single chair. “Yeah, apparently so do I.” She never had gotten around to telling the Scoobs and Giles that she was fairly certain the Slayer Activation spell had made her immortal. She really should have asked Gaia about that when she had the chance. She gave herself a mental shake and looked up at him. “You might want to get comfortable. This is gonna take a while.”
She watched him and suddenly realized why this moment: he was deciding whether to run or not, and if he chose to run then she knew without a doubt that the future would play out exactly as it had the first time. She couldn’t force him, though. He had to do it on his own. She held her breath as she waited for him to make his choice.
After an eternity that was really only a few minutes, Angel crossed to the bed and sat down. Hands dangling between his knees, he looked up and met her eyes. “Talk,” he requested.
Willow took a deep breath and did as he asked.
~*~
Epilogue
1996
Angel shouldn’t have been surprised that the Slayer had gotten the drop on him, what with all the stories Willow had told him over the years, but the Buffy Summers he’d been trailing the last couple of days just didn’t jive with those descriptions. She was so vapid, so damn young. But he had to admit he was reluctantly impressed. At least, now he could see the potential in her to become the warrior Willow had described.
He knew he wasn’t making the best first impression, but winding her up was a little too much fun. He tossed the box holding the cross Willow had picked out for her to Buffy and said, ”Don’t turn your back on this. You’ve gotta be ready.”
“What for?”
“For the Harvest,” he said succinctly, watching her closely for her reaction. There was no hint of recognition in Buffy’s eyes. She really was woefully unprepared for what was to come.
”Who are you,” she asked plaintively.
Let’s just say…I’m a friend. He turned and started walking back the way he’d come.
”Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want a friend,” she replied snidely.
Angel smirked and turned, still walking backwards. ”I didn’t say I was yours,” he said as he faded into the shadows.
“You know, you can still be a real dick when you want to be, mate,” Spike said as he joined his sire.
Angel shrugged. “I have to make my own fun sometimes.”
Spike snorted. “You know Red’s gonna be pissed that you wound her up like that.”
Angel didn’t respond as they entered the Espresso Pump. Willow waved at them from the back booth she was sharing with Dru. She looked at them, a half-nervous, half-excited look on her pretty face. “So? Is it done?”
“The seeds have been planted,” Angel said before he kissed her lightly and settled next to her.
Spike rolled his eyes as he threw himself next to Dru. “He did that cryptic bit you told him not to do.”
Angel narrowed his eyes at his childe. “Tattle tale.”
Willow sighed. “I guess some lessons you just have to learn for yourself, Angel.”
Dru snickered. “Daddy Dearest needs a spanking.”
Willow flushed. “We’ll talk about that at home.”
Angel leered at her playfully and she elbowed him in the ribs. He dropped his arm across her shoulders and she curled into his side, letting the warmth of her second family wrap around her. The last hundred years had all been leading up to this moment. Some things had been irrevocably changed, such as permanently anchoring Angel’s soul, making amends with Spike and Drusilla, and making them part of the family. Also, she and Angel were mated and bonded. The future was now and she had done what she could to change things for the better.
“So it begins,” Willow said softly to herself.
Angel pressed a kiss to her temple and she smiled, shaking off her nervousness. With any luck, from now on it would only take a few nudges here and there to set the future on a different, better path.
Only time would tell.
-30-