Darla: A Portrait
*from
two perspectives*
by:
blue
rated:
pg-13
Disclaimer: The Darla and
Angel characters belong to Joss Whedon, the Kuzuis and FOX. No copyright
infringement is intended.
Summary: Just Darla taking a
good look at herself from a third person point of view. From there it
moves to Angel's point of view.
Spoilers: Season 2 of ANGEL
(Darla's point of view.)
Who are you?
Who do you want to be?
You've lived the life of a whore for most of
your short life.
Out of struggle and death defying strength
you faced men, defied God, and tried to stand among the strength of old
souls. You didn't want to be understood or wallow in other peoples'
sympathy. You took pride in the way people stared at you as you walked down
the streets of old town but that was only to save face and attain some internal
dignity.
As we all know it was all done to attain
something of meaning.
We all know what you did in private.
You cursed to the high heaven and cried for
guidance and help in the silent hours.
The one thing . . .
The one thing you wanted was to be a true
person, not someone that gave themselves away and gave and gave and gave
without getting something true in return.
You didn't know what to do with yourself
though.
You didn't have much faith in yourself to
begin with so you lived the only way you knew how . . . until you couldn't do
that any more.
Resigned to death, you laid yourself to sleep
hoping to never wake up again.
As you woke hoping to be dead at last, you
opened your eyes feeling something that resembled a lost emotion.
You felt hope . . .
hoping
that the light pouring in through the window was a sign that God didn't give up
on you.
Soon after though you heard a voice.
It was a voice of a man with a strong
presence about him. You didn't know who he was or even cared. Dying
was on your mind this day of your death. A natural death was your
hope. The "man" walked toward you and told you of what was to
come. You told him of what could have been. He smiled and then
revealed his true self to you. Without fear you slowly turned your head
to get a better look of him. His features were inhuman and indiscernible,
yet welcome.
He didn't remind you of the others that
disregarded your presence without a moments thought.
Slowly he lowered his head to your neck while
saying and affirming that the One did nothing for you. Without really
having a say in the matter you excepted his gift and welcomed darkness and your
next life.
For about 150 years you spent your time next
to the Master. He taught you well and you blossomed becoming the creature
that possessed true power that those lower beings could never possess.
You became in your own words beautiful and truly invincible. You were a
power in your own right.
Throughout those many years you would take
personal excursions without the Master and once while away and alone you
sought rest in an Irish tavern. Upon your arrival you took note of a
beautiful man. He was striking and yet there was an uneasy tension about
him. You observed him for quite a while. It was useless not to
really. Your eyes couldn't and wouldn't watch anyone else.
He was boisterous, loud, merry, charming, and haughty. "He'd make a great
vampire" you sung to yourself "and a great mate for eternity". You
thought you found your match in every sense of the word. You wanted him
and as you saw him thrown out of the pub you quickly set your sites on
attaining him.
He would provide you with what had been
missing in your life.
Into an alley you walked, hoping he would
notice you. Out of the corner of Liam's eye he saw a lighted vision, a
beautiful woman. Liam walked over to you and brimming with excitement yet
also composed you led him to your world. He wanted as you did an answer
to the significance of life. As the Master did to you you hoped to give
him the answer to his deepest desires.
You were only doing what was done to you
hoping you were giving the right answer.
Even though it was really the wrong answer
dressed and made to appear as the most beautiful thing of all and it wasn't.
For 150 years you stayed and did everything
together. You laughed, made love, drank, shared, talked and stared at
each other. You did everything together until . . . that dreaded night in
the late 1800s. It was that fateful night when Angel's soul was returned
to him. You didn't recognize him anymore. The ruthless being he was
didn't exist and you wept to see him.
Later the both of you even tried to rekindle
that lost light but it was useless. Nature got the best of both of you
and Angel wept because he couldn't be what you wanted.
So you broke apart to never see each other
again until later.
Until it was another fateful day . . . in
Sunnydale and yet this time the bell was tolling for your death.
You were again at the service of the Master
and on your own sought Angel back to your side. Angel though tempted
wouldn't return to your side. Days later though he killed you when you
didn't know it. Death's blow went through your back in a few seconds
time.
And the last word said on your lips was
"Angel". And from there you fell to the ground in ashes . . . to never be
seen again.
That is until three years later in LA when an
ancient and never done before ritual was performed. This ritual was
special and belonged in a scroll that foretold the End of Days and the battles
to come. A demon from Hell even performed the spell and you were brought
back to live again.
You were brought to live in the human sense
this time around though. Tests were done on you to reaffirm Wolfram &
Hart's plan to eventually revamp you when Angel was at his weakest point.
Of course you didn't know this and didn't know what would happen once you met
Angel again. You wanted him back . . . back at your side, to be together
forever again.
He would make you and you'll be happy again.
You didn't know he'd scoff at you in your
face. You didn't know that he'd compare you to another. To be the
easily cast off murdered one was a slap in the face. All you wanted were
the good old days back. Your plan was failing and crumbling to
nothing. Eventually as you thought did you fall and crumbled into a heap
of nothing.
"Who am I?"
"Where was I?"
You didn't know who you were or where you
began.
Here you were as a human again that didn't
even remember her own name. Your previous life didn't even have a faint
memory in your mind. You wanted the pain to disappear, to go back to the
way you were when everything was easy and to not have a care in the world.
You didn't want to be reminded of that
"pain" so long ago when you actually first existed even though you
didn't no when or where.
But you knew the pain was real and the memory
of it stayed in your dying heart.
You sought his help and fell apart in his
arms. You finally began to understand what he felt when he had his soul
returned to him but like an addict addicted to the life of a vampire you begged
him to turn you back. Shocked he told you he couldn't and that you damned
him. Defeated you ran away and told him to never find you again.
Also defeated Angel stared after you.
You sought help in the way you did
before. Trying to make something of yourself and your problems, you
reverted to an old habit which wasn't even a distant memory even. You
kept to yourself but in some foolish sense hoped (there's that word
again) that Angel would come and rescue you in his strong arms. You
waited, removed your cross, and applied red lipstick. In the mirror you
realized you were reliving that distant "painful" memory and quickly
removed the lipstick.
Soon there was a knock and . . . it was
W&H banging on your door.
Permission ungranted.
They told you were dying of an incurable
disease. They did nothing to help you, but only spur you in the deadly
and self-destructive direction of trying to revamp yourself or even possibly
dying at the hands of a careless loser. Angel caught you and tried to
convince you to live, but at the arrival of your news he stopped.
Shocked he didn't know what to say but look
at you in complete pain.
You walked away and not knowing he followed
you and tried to figure out a plan. He finally convinced you to return to
the hotel until he could find a cure for you. A second chance was what he
wanted for you since he himself had never been denied second chances time and
again.
(Angel's point of view)
First though he had to get confirmation of
your circumstances and once he got it, he went back to the hotel and . . .
stared at you through the window. She looked so peaceful and innocent holding
that flower.
Oh why!
Why!
"With me behind her I'm sure she would
have been a strong and wonderful human," Angel thought. "Like
that flower she would have bloomed into a promising and gifted
individual. Why should this be denied her when all her life she never had
a chance?"
Together we went to "The Trial", a mystic
place that grants life to those in need. I passed all the tests and
through all of them she got the chance to see in essence and completely the
strength and goodness of soulful existence.
But it was too good to be true.
She was denied a second chance b/c ironically
she was already living her second chance even though she was fated to
die. In pain, horror, and frustration I attacked anything I could get my
hands on.
I wanted to save her.
I wanted to have someone that could relate to
me.
She would have been my . . . my . . . perfect
friend but we were denied to ever experience that. She was denied a
second chance to live.
Back at the motel room, we talked for a
little bit. I was even willing to give her want she wanted in the first
place, thinking possibly that things would be different since I have a soul.
Immediately she said she didn't want it
anymore . . . because it was "it" that was the source of her pain.
Darla finally saw what her chance was and
even though she was incredibly scared to experience what she feared the most,
she accepted death. I walked over to her and wrapped my arm around her as
she broke down in tears. (Darla: "I finally get to share in
his embrace once more before I pass.") Forever for every moment she
was alive until her dying day he would be there for her. Thankful she
rested her head on his chest. Together they stayed that way and hoped
to. . .
until the door was kicked in and I was
paralyzed and bounded by Wolfram and Hart. Holding her against her will,
Darla struggled to get away but couldn't. She looked at me out of fear
for my life and fearing for the both of us.
Eventually though she realized what was
happening when a breath of familiar walked through the doorway.
In walked Drusilla, the vamp that I sired
long ago. I had multiple opportunities to kill her but didn't out of
guilt. Slowly Dru walked over to Darla, turned, and brought her teeth to
Darla's neck. It felt as if my soul was being ripped from my body
as I watched Darla's soul ruthlessly tear from her body. Absolutely out
of strength and will from my fading sanity, I watched Dru carry Darla to the
bed and make a small cut on her chest. Out of a last moments' hope I
silently pleaded with Dru to not carry out the last step. Yet out of her
hatred for her me, her sire, Dru held Darla's head closely to her chest . . .
returning to her what she saw as a gift . . .
a poisonous snake in a shiny box.
t h e e n d
