Control

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the show "Buffy, the Vampire Slayer."

The Hyperion is silent, empty, still, peaceful. Wesley, Cordelia and Gunn, all gone, fired. I flinch; I shouldn't have done that. They're my friends. Along with Doyle the best friends I've ever had. Still I had to make them leave, I just couldn't sit there and listen to them go on and on about those damn lawyers. What happened to them was their own fault. I just let them reap the harvest they'd sown.

I should have explained that to the others, but I could feel the rage building again. It wasn't safe for them to be here, not if they were going to be confrontational.

This last month, since Darla's little games started, it's been like living in a whirlwind, everything out of my control and getting worse.

Darla's visits must have involved more than just sex. I can't imagine that I wouldn't have woken-up if she'd just been playing around with my body. Whatever she did to me left me so tired. I slept for days and I still woke up tired. Of course sleeping and resting are hardly synonymous, especially not with Darla having access to my room. When I was actually awake I could focus properly, either my attention wandered or zeroed in on one thing to the exclusion of all else. I can't figure out what it was Darla did, but it's not going away and I don't want to talk to Cordelia or Wesley about it again. I've had enough of being yelled at for not taking precautions to keep my Sire, who died almost four years ago, from having sex with me, it wasn't exactly my choice.

Beyond that I'm sick and tired of Wesley and Cordelia's constant squabbling. Last year I could shrug it off, now it's hard to pretend to be normal, not to over react when all I want to do is take them both by the neck and shake them till they shut up.

On the case, it's becoming too dangerous to have them with me. I can't watch out for them. During the fight in the old convent, I forgot everything except that one guy I was pounding into the floor. I finally had someone I could get angry at and I couldn't get enough of it. If Gunn hadn't of been there we would have lost the fight, Wesley and Cordelia could have been hurt, because I wasn't doing my job.

I thought it would all go away after I confronted Darla, because she wouldn't be invading my dreams anymore. Without her interference I should have been able to sleep again, which should have fixed the other problems, the anger and obsession, except it didn't. If anything it's worse, because I've got the energy to act on my feelings. I need to lash out at something, but I don't know what. I'm so angry, all the time, but there's nothing to be angry at. It feels like having a pressure bomb inside my skull, anything could set it off.

And I'm still loosing perspective. I must have drawn Darla several dozen times that night and I never noticed, not till Wesley pointed it out. It had to have taken me hours and I never noticed. Hours gone, like they'd never existed, Wesley standing there, ankle deep in crumpled paper, trying so delicately to be helpful. Which makes it damn hard to say that I don't want to talk about how I feel about my Sire with a Watcher, not even Wesley, especially not Wesley.

Wesley, my friend Wesley, is not comfortable with vampire. None of them are, despite Cordelia's new habit of offering me blood as my beverage of choice. They probably just don't think about what I am. Which would make for a very interesting discussion if I actually decided to come clean and tell them about Darla and I's relationship.

They had a hard enough time dealing with the killing dreams I shared with Penn.

Besides, what good would it do? I don't even know what I feel about Darla, my Sire, my lover, the first person to look at me with pride, the last as well. The first vampire I ever killed, well not counting the minion that got on my nerves before the curse, brought back as a mortal. Now she's my lover again, though not by my choice.

Her soul returned, just like mine, confused, alone but not alone because I've already been there. How could I not help her? She had a second chance, except it was flawed, like my second chance. Both of us were given back our souls, but unable to truly live. She was given the opportunity to die of illness; I was given a curse that could, unfortunately, be broken.

Malicious, stupid lawyers, as incompetent as the damned Rom. Goddamn them, like they damned me, like Darla damned me, like the Master and Dru have damned her.

No, I can't do this; it's no good to hate people a hundred years dead. I can't do anything about them. But Darla can do something to Wolfram and Hart; it's only her right to lash out at those who held at hope to her only to snatch it away.

Wolfram and Hart thought we were their pawns, thought they could use us, manipulate us, well I guess Dru and Darla showed them otherwise. Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn are mad because I didn't stop them, how would my friends feel if they ever realized it took every ounce of will power I possess not to join the girl in the fun.

It would have been such a release to just give in. It was just Wolfram and Hart employees. They're what I'm fighting against anyway, would it have been so bad if I'd helped Dru and Darla slaughter them?

I hope they're all dead; maybe then I'll be able to get my life back.

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