A/N: I know I said I was going to put the Author's Note on my Her Own
Show clique, but the clique isn't finished, so you'll have to wait if
you want to read my rant. Or go to my LiveJournal, because I posted it
there.
Imzadi - Thanks for reviewing. :D Of course you'd think it's Lindsey, but as much as I love Lindsey, I rarely write about him. It could be Angel. He uses a sword quite often. It could be Wes. He's made some really bad choices. It could be some other person who knows Darla that I made up.
Chapter Two: Last Memories
She has to think a while, search her memory, before she recognizes the man before her. "Lindsey?"
(But it is Lindsey. :P)
She would have recognized him in an instant. There had been times when she'd think about nothing but him, remembering every bit of his appearance, wishing she could see him again and release all the passion bottled up inside. But he looks different now. His hair is longer, and he's more muscular. He's let a bit of hair grow on his chin. He's still so beautiful.
Her hands clench around her sword, but she lowers it, and he does the same. "I- How- When did you- How long have you... been here?" she asks him. She isn't sure what she wants to say to him, and is amazed that she was able to get any words out.
"Hours, I think. It's hard to keep track of time."
"It's easier when it's day time."
"I wasn't aware that there was a day time here, nor was I aware that there would be such a lack of torture," he replies, looking around at the tall grey cliffs and the clouded night sky. Not a single star shines through the wispy atmosphere.
Darla looks at him. "You think this is hell, Lindsey?"
He looks back at her. "Isn't it?"
She pushes past him. "Don't flatter yourself. You're apparently not as evil as you think."
Lindsey isn't sure how to respond to this, so he just turns around and follows her.
Without turning around to face him, Darla asks, "How did you die?"
Lindsey hesitates for a moment, then gives her a name, "Angel."
"Angel doesn't kill humans."
"He didn't seem to reluctant about giving you and Drusilla that massacre."
This stops Darla in her tracks. Now she turns towards him. "Massacre?"
"At the wine cellar, remember?"
She turns back around and continues walking. "No."
"You forgot the massacre?"
"No, Lindsey, I never knew about the massacre. That was after Drusilla sired me. I didn't have a soul." Once again, she looks at him, spreading her arms apart. "What you see here is my soul. What you are is your soul. I don't remember anything that happened after Drusilla sired me. - After you brought Drusilla in to sire me."
Lindsey looks away. The last memories Darla has of him are of him indirectly killing her. He'd been selfish. He'd wanted Darla walking, talking, moving so that she could be with him. But now, as she stands before him, he realizes that he ruined her. He should have fought or refused the order or something. Hoping to convince both her and himself, he gives the excuse, "You were going to die anyway."
She shakes her head. "I was given a second chance. A chance to die the way I was supposed to." Lindsey spots a gleam in her eyes. Tears. She tries to blink them back, but without much use. "You took that away from me. There have been times when I'd think about nothing but you, remembering how you looked so ready to take my life, wishing I could see you again so that I could spit on you, or scratch your eyes out, or anything to release all that rage and resentment."
Lindsey feels a knot form in his gut. He whispers, "I thought it would be over. I thought I could release the pain. Save you. There was no way I could have known that your soul would still be here, along with all that agony. Why didn't you tell me? Why did you tell me that you were just gone?"
"I didn't remember." At the look of surprise on his face, she continues, "To prevent anyone from spilling their guts about the Shadowlands, souls have no memories once they reach the surface. They use the memories of their brains. After I was sired by the Master, I came here, completely unaware of what I was doing as a vampire. Then when Wolfram&Hart brought me back, I could remember my physical memories, being a vampire, but not the memories of my soul."
"...So you hate me?"
"I hate you."
The words burn into him. He decides to try one last time. Third time's a charm, he thinks to himself. He looks up at her and tries not to flinch at the look on her face, and says, "I'm sorry." He repeats louder, "I'm sorry. Is there any way I can make this up to you?"
Darla stares hard at him and seems to consider. "Walk with me."
And he does.
A/N: Wow. That was pretty long. I know "beautiful" is kind of a weird word to describe Lindsey. I prefer "hot," but "beautiful" seemed more Darla-ish. What did you think? Again, please review, or I ... probably will put up the next chapter, but I like to wait until I get at least one review. So please?
Imzadi - Thanks for reviewing. :D Of course you'd think it's Lindsey, but as much as I love Lindsey, I rarely write about him. It could be Angel. He uses a sword quite often. It could be Wes. He's made some really bad choices. It could be some other person who knows Darla that I made up.
Chapter Two: Last Memories
She has to think a while, search her memory, before she recognizes the man before her. "Lindsey?"
(But it is Lindsey. :P)
She would have recognized him in an instant. There had been times when she'd think about nothing but him, remembering every bit of his appearance, wishing she could see him again and release all the passion bottled up inside. But he looks different now. His hair is longer, and he's more muscular. He's let a bit of hair grow on his chin. He's still so beautiful.
Her hands clench around her sword, but she lowers it, and he does the same. "I- How- When did you- How long have you... been here?" she asks him. She isn't sure what she wants to say to him, and is amazed that she was able to get any words out.
"Hours, I think. It's hard to keep track of time."
"It's easier when it's day time."
"I wasn't aware that there was a day time here, nor was I aware that there would be such a lack of torture," he replies, looking around at the tall grey cliffs and the clouded night sky. Not a single star shines through the wispy atmosphere.
Darla looks at him. "You think this is hell, Lindsey?"
He looks back at her. "Isn't it?"
She pushes past him. "Don't flatter yourself. You're apparently not as evil as you think."
Lindsey isn't sure how to respond to this, so he just turns around and follows her.
Without turning around to face him, Darla asks, "How did you die?"
Lindsey hesitates for a moment, then gives her a name, "Angel."
"Angel doesn't kill humans."
"He didn't seem to reluctant about giving you and Drusilla that massacre."
This stops Darla in her tracks. Now she turns towards him. "Massacre?"
"At the wine cellar, remember?"
She turns back around and continues walking. "No."
"You forgot the massacre?"
"No, Lindsey, I never knew about the massacre. That was after Drusilla sired me. I didn't have a soul." Once again, she looks at him, spreading her arms apart. "What you see here is my soul. What you are is your soul. I don't remember anything that happened after Drusilla sired me. - After you brought Drusilla in to sire me."
Lindsey looks away. The last memories Darla has of him are of him indirectly killing her. He'd been selfish. He'd wanted Darla walking, talking, moving so that she could be with him. But now, as she stands before him, he realizes that he ruined her. He should have fought or refused the order or something. Hoping to convince both her and himself, he gives the excuse, "You were going to die anyway."
She shakes her head. "I was given a second chance. A chance to die the way I was supposed to." Lindsey spots a gleam in her eyes. Tears. She tries to blink them back, but without much use. "You took that away from me. There have been times when I'd think about nothing but you, remembering how you looked so ready to take my life, wishing I could see you again so that I could spit on you, or scratch your eyes out, or anything to release all that rage and resentment."
Lindsey feels a knot form in his gut. He whispers, "I thought it would be over. I thought I could release the pain. Save you. There was no way I could have known that your soul would still be here, along with all that agony. Why didn't you tell me? Why did you tell me that you were just gone?"
"I didn't remember." At the look of surprise on his face, she continues, "To prevent anyone from spilling their guts about the Shadowlands, souls have no memories once they reach the surface. They use the memories of their brains. After I was sired by the Master, I came here, completely unaware of what I was doing as a vampire. Then when Wolfram&Hart brought me back, I could remember my physical memories, being a vampire, but not the memories of my soul."
"...So you hate me?"
"I hate you."
The words burn into him. He decides to try one last time. Third time's a charm, he thinks to himself. He looks up at her and tries not to flinch at the look on her face, and says, "I'm sorry." He repeats louder, "I'm sorry. Is there any way I can make this up to you?"
Darla stares hard at him and seems to consider. "Walk with me."
And he does.
A/N: Wow. That was pretty long. I know "beautiful" is kind of a weird word to describe Lindsey. I prefer "hot," but "beautiful" seemed more Darla-ish. What did you think? Again, please review, or I ... probably will put up the next chapter, but I like to wait until I get at least one review. So please?