TITLE:  Sympathetic Character  1/1

COMPANION PIECE FOR: i am what i am & the Lemons

SUMMARY: DARLA reflects.

RATING: R (character death)

CATEGORY: Angst

SPOILERS: Fool For Love, Darla and general buffy season 2

DISCLAIMER:  Joss Whedon owns all. Alanis Morrisette owns "Sympathetic Character".

DEDICATION: For Rabbit. Thanks SOOO much! And to Tali for the encouragement.

FEEDBACK:  PLEASE! It means SOOOO much! PLEASE PLEASE!

THANKS TO: James, Juliet, David and Julie. AND TO: Ryan, Ash, Evil Willow, Michelle, Alee, and my two bitches.

FOOLS FOR LOVE

-Sympathetic Character-

                I can feel it inside me and it hurts. It's been hurting for a while, but it stings now. I can feel death, creeping its way into my body and it pains me. It burns me from within and I wonder, was this what he felt? I don't know if it's the soul or the humanity, but something is burning me from within. I've not felt this pounding in my chest in so long and it aches. This body is dying and I can feel it wasting away.

                He won't help me. My own bloodline won't help me. It's not that he can't. He can. I know he can. He won't. He promised he'd take care of me and he won't. So I'll find someone who will. I was not meant to be this way. I was not meant to be walking around downtown Los Angeles fearing the shadows and demons that I know are there. This was not supposed to be me.

                And perhaps that's why he won't. He came back from Hell a vampire, not human. I know this, I was informed of his soul loss and I wish I could have been there. We could have had what we once did. But we changed. The magnificent four are no longer here. And we were magnificent for nearly two decades; we were feared and revered. Demons cowered in their skin, and other vampire clans ran from encounters with us. We'd show up in a town, and the most powerful clans would leave. And that's how we liked it. No competition.

                I miss that. I miss my darling boy. He won't help me. Fine. I don't need him.

                Oh but I do! And I hate myself for it. I can feel him inside my body, inside my heart, my mind; I can feel him still, as if he were my childe, when he's not. Not anymore, because I have no childer. I have life, and it's a curse.

                Who am I? Damned if I know. I do know I'm not the human I once was. I remember that much. I might not know too much more, but I know that. I'm not her. She is not I. She was not I. And I won't be her. I don't remember her name. Funny that I don't remember her name. It was my name for twenty or so years, yet I don't remember. I try and try, but I can't remember. I can't picture her. I remember when he came to me. I remember when he sat outside my window; I can still hear him humming. The sound of the air in my delusions. And I *did* cry out for him. I *did* call him to my bed. I invited him in. I wanted the death that I knew he'd bring me. I welcomed it.

                Where was God when I was a child and my mother died? I know that. I know my life wasn't pretty. And where was God when a small child cried out in fear of her father's hand? God never did anything for me, or her. And he knew that. So when he brought death, I accepted. And he was my new father. He was everything I needed for a hundred or so years. He was all I could see, all I wanted. He was my companion, my savior, my brother, and just the thought of his hands on me makes me cringe. Is it any wonder why I left with Angelus?

                Living with the Master for one hundred and forty-four years was a nightmare. If I said too much, or not enough, I was dragged to bed. "I was afraid you'd hit me if I'd spoken up. I was afraid of your physical strength. I was afraid you'd hit me below the belt. I was afraid of your sucker punch. I was afraid of your reducing me. I was afraid of your alcohol breath. I was afraid of your complete disregard for me. I was afraid of your temper. I was afraid of handles being flown off of. I was afraid of holes being punched into walls. I was afraid of your testosterone."

//I have as much rage as you have

I have as much pain as you do

I've lived as much Hell as you have

And I've kept mine bubbling under for you//

                And through all that, it sickened me to know that he was my best friend. He was my lover. He was my mentor, my brother, my partner, and my teacher. He was my very own sympathetic character. He was my everything. And he knew it. He used it. And when Angel got his soul, and my darling boy was gone, and Spike and Dru were of no consequence, I went back and begged for forgiveness. The year following that was the worst. "I was afraid of verbal daggers. I was afraid of the calm before the storm. I was afraid for my own bones. I was afraid of your seduction. I was afraid of your coercion. I was afraid of your rejection. I was afraid of your intimidation. I was afraid of your punishment. I was afraid of your icy silences. I was afraid of your volume. I was afraid of your manipulation. I was afraid of your explosions."

                I paid for that in spades. He always insisted that he was my salvation. He told me over and over that God didn't want me, that's why he was in that room with me, that's why he was with me on my death bed, and not the priest. I learned that lesson well.

//I have as much rage as you do

I have as much pain as you do

I've lived as much hell as you have

And I've kept mine bubbling under for you//

                But I taught the lesson better. Angelus. My Darling Boy. How I miss his fingers, his caress, his length sheathed inside me. I miss so much about him that it makes me bleed. And he turned me away. He could have been my best friend, my lover, my mentor, my brother, my partner, and my teacher. *He* could my everything, my very own sympathetic character. But he turned me away.

                Because he "can't." He says I damned him. I set him free. The evil he brought was buried inside; I merely set it free. God I wished that I could have denounced my sire. But he was my everything. I couldn't denounce him. So I left. I left with my Darling Boy.

                And as I'm walking back to the office, I realize it's not finished. *Angelus* was my salvation. My true salvation from the Master. I storm into the office and he's standing in the doorway and I scream, "YOU WERE MY KEEPER. YOU WERE MY ANCHOR. YOU WERE MY FAMILY. YOU WERE MY SAVIOR. And therein lay the issue. And therein lay the problem."

                And I sink to the ground. I look up and see the other two who seek refuge with the man who wears his face. The face of our beloved. Of my Darling Boy.

CONTINUE ON