Episode 7:

'When you feel all alone

And the world has turned its back on you

Give me a moment please to tame your wild wild heart

I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you

It's hard to find relief and people can be so cold

When darkness is upon your door and you feel like you can't take anymore'

- 'Crash and Burn', by Savage Garden -

'So what happened to that lawyer? The one that fancied you?'

Darla rolled her eyes at Spike's tone. He sounded like an old lady from the eighteenth century.

The three of them were at the basement, in a futile attempt to get a way from the hyper teens upstairs. Faith and Spike were smoking, sitting on his bed next to the chains (the ones that had provoked some colorful comments from Faith), and Darla sat on the table that was in front of them, an empty glass, once full of whiskey, next to her.

'I'm not sure. It seemed like he found a consciense and fled'. A part of Darla (the smae one that felt the pang of guilt for all she'd done to him) was glad he'd managed to get away from Wolfram and Hart. Another part of her wondered whether it hadn't been a terribly foolish thing to do, not to say suicidal.

'Looks like you made quite an impression on him, Blondie', Faith commented. 'Doubt I've done the same with any of the guys I fucked'.

'Let's not talk about screwed up love lives, or Spike will bore us to death with his'.

Both women sniggered as Spike glared. 'Yeah, go ahead, laugh. Bloody bints...'

This wasn't the first time they spent time together. Actually, it had became almost a habit hiding into the basement to have a chat, smoke or drain a whisky bottle...or all three at once.

Darla found amazing the amount of things the three of them had in common, which she'd never believed possible. After all, it was about a Slayer and Spike she was talking about. What could she have in common with any of them. And yet, she did.

They spent hours talking about how annoying the army of Potentials could be, laughing at Andrew's newest docummental and chatting about another dozen everyday things. Sometimes, though, the ventured into deeper waters. Then they talked about their past faults, screwed up love lives, what they would do when everything were over (ignoring the eternal question of whether they would live enough to do any of those things) and the struggle to keep on the good path. And sometimes they spoke about Angel.

It was a relief to be able to talk about the deceased vampire freely. In the upstairs world, as they called it, no one dared to pronounce Angel's name because of Buffy. Darla found this very unfair to Faith, whom the loss of Angel had affected more than she let on. After all, Buffy had always had a lot of people by her side. She still got a lot of friends to upport her, whereas Faith had lost the only friend she ever had.

So Spike and Darla shared their memories of Angel, and Faith drank every word they said, and she memorized every detail, every piece of the puzzle Angel was. Darla thought it was kind of funny – and also kind of sad – how the one of them who was affected the most by Angel's death was the one who had treated him the less.

Unexpectedly, in the short time they'd spent together lately, they'd became a source of support for each other. And like hell they needed support: Darla beared with the absence of her child and the uncertainty of where he was; Faith had to face her victims daily and endure feeling left out all over again; and Spike was putting up with his every day more evidently unrequited love for the golden Slayer.

Speaking of the devil, a sound of hurried footsteps was heard on the stairs, and the figure of Buffy Summers appeared in the basement. Her brow furrowed when she saw Faith and Spike's position.

'Well, it's nice to see you two getting along so well', she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Darla looked at her, amused. Spike and Faith, on the other hand, straightened up and moved some inches away from each other.

Buffy still looked grumpy. Darla wondered whether it wasn't a little late for pulling the jealous girlfriend act, after they way she'd treated Spike recently. She shooh her head. It was none of her damned business.

Buffy finally stopped glaring at Spike long enough to notice Darla was there too.

'Oh, Darla, I didn't see you'. Why doesn't it surprise me? 'I got some news from LA that might interest you...' A knot formed in Darla's throat. '...and perhaps you too, Faith'. The knot disappeared. Obviouly they weren't news about Connor.

'Spill it, B'.

Buffy looked annoyed once more at the addressing but, like always, she chose to ignore it.

'Wesley called. Wolfram and Hart's been destroyed, or at least its LA branch'.

Both Faith and Darla jumped from their seats.

'How?'

'Why?'

'Who did it?'

Buffy looked deflated. 'Well, that's the part that's not so good news. Seems like The First did it'.

Faith's eyes widened as Darla frowned. 'Why would The First do that? It's not like they weren't evil enough'.

Buffy shrugged. 'Probably The First didn't want competence. Anyway, Wesley's said he might have found something that could help us, but he has to do some research first...'

'Buffy, are you down there?' Dawn's voice came from upstairs. Buffy looked resigned.

'Yeah, Dawnie?'

The girl's face was seen on the doorway.

'Willow's on the phone. Seems like another potential arrived...and was attacked'.

Things were so not supposed to be like this. The vineyard excursion had ended up in disaster, and now the white hats were in disarray, after several of its members had been unmercifully slaughtered.

Darla shivered at the memory. She had been so close to save one of the girls (Molly, Molly had been her name), so damned close... And then one of thos Bringers had stabbed her in the stomach. She'd fallen on her knees, seeing helpleesly the look of terror on the young girl's face as the Preacher snapped her neck, the look of defeat in the Slayers eyes as she arrived too late... Darla had killed thousands, and yet the face of that only girls haunted her more than all her victims put together.

And then, chaos had ensued. The Slayer's very best friends had ruled her out, crowning Faith as queen of damned hellmouth instead. Darla didn't know what to think anymore.

She'd believed that having a soul would make things much easier, only that it didn't. It made them even more confusing. The good guys didn't know what to do, the golden Slayer had been kicked out of her own house, and Spike, who was supposed to be some sort of guide to Darla through all this mayhem, had gone with her.

Things had been supposed to be easier than this. She had to fight the good fight, with Spike's aid, and follow the Slayer. What no one had told her was that she'd have to choose which Slayer to follow, and there was dissension in the good guys' ranks, whereas their enemy got stronger. Before she had a soul, things had been very simple: the only thing she had to do was to be evil. Now, though, she realised she had to make some choices...and that if she picked up the wrong one she'd be the only one to blame.

As she was dwelling in those somber thoughts, she saw Faith approaching her. The dark Slayer looked a little down lately, all her usual cockiness gone. To Darla, it looked like the burden Buffy used to carry had moved onto Faith's shoulders, who was finally seeing what the phrase 'the weight of the world' truly meant.

Faith stood next to her, and several moments passed in silence. Finally, she seemed to put up the courage to whisper:

'I'm not sure I can do this'.

Darla stared at her, and decided that the woman didn't need to hear her worries. Instead, she tried to ease her anxiety.

'Why not, Faith? You're as much of a Slayer as Buffy is. You've been made the same way, the same power runs through your veins.'

Faith snorted. 'We both know that I'm not her.'

Never spoken a truer word, Faith.

'They chose you over her, Faith. That has to mean something'.

Faith shrugged. 'Yeah, I s'pose so', she said, not sounding altogether reassured.

In that moment, Giles poped out his head from behind the door.

'Faith, we need you here'.

Darla gave her one last reassuring look, at which Faith responded with a faint smile. Darla watched her walk a way, a knot forming in her stomach. How would Faith defeat The First when she didn't trust herself?

Who will come to our rescue now, if the Slayer's lost?

As if it had been an answer to her thoughts, the doorbell rang. Seeing that no one was going to answer, Darla walked towards the door and opened it herself...and froze.

Standing in the porch, Darla saw Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, escorted by the brown-eyed girl, Fred; the dark, bald man, and the green demon guy in way too bright clothes.

'Cavalry is here...' Wesley's smile faded when he saw her, his eyes widening only slightly. After all, Buffy had warned him of her pressence there.

Darla leaned against the doorframe and suveyed them with curiosity. Wesley was carrying a small, ancient-looking box with runes written all over it. Was that what would help them defeat The First?

Wesley finally seemed to get over his intial shock, as he said, in a even voice:

'Hello, Darla'. He looked past her. 'Is Buffy at the house? We have something to show her'.

Darla raised an eyebrow and chuckled humorlessly.

'Funny that you asked that...'

Everything was eerily quiet around them. Well, apart from the Potentials, who were physically uncapable of remaining silent. She could see Gunn's scowl in the dark. Probably the tough streetfighter wasn't used to dealing with teenaged girls.

Darla frowned, scrutizing the shadows, but she couldn't find anything suspicious. Which was starting to get suspicious by now. She exchanged a look with Faith, and saw the same doubt in her eyes. Where were The First's lackeys? If this arsenal was so important, why was it abandoned?

One of the girls (Vi, Darla thought her name was) voiced this doubt out loud...and it was soon answered when eight Bringers came from the ceiling and attacked them.

The fight was short. This time, the girls stood their own ground much better than at the vineyard. Perhaps they were finally learning... Or perhaps, Darla thought depressingly, all the weak fighters had already been killed.

Either way, it was soon over, but this only made Darla's uneasiness to increase. When she exchanged looks with Faith and Gunn, she realised she wasn't the only one who was having second thoughts. It was too easy. The three of them had dealt with dark forces, one way or another, to learn that these things were never supposed to be easy. What was The First – who'd always been two steps ahead them – playing at?

The girls, led by Faith, walked further down the tunnel. Gunn followed them, and Darla was the last one in the line, checking that nothing would attack them from behind.

Darla was too far to see the wooden box, and from this distance the beeping sounded too distant, even for her supernatural hearing. So she remained clueless like the rest about what was truly going on until Faith opened Pandora's box and they heard her desperate scream:

'Everybody get down!'

And then, a loud explosion engulfed any other sounds, and everything around Darla turned black when a chunk form the ceiling crashed onto her head.

When she woke up, the pain was blinding. It took her a moment to get used to it and managed to focus her sight on something solid. The couch. She had seen that couch before. At the Summers' living room. How had she gotten to the Summers' place?

A black, bald man walked past her and she grabbed his leg. He turned to face her, lying on the floor, and a little confused she saw he wasn't Gunn. Wood. It was Wood.

'The girls...What happened to the girls?'

He kneeled next to her and prevented her from getting up.

'A few dead, many injured. Willow's taking care of them'.

Darla gritted her teeth, trying to overcome the sudden pang of pain.

'Gunn...Faith...?'

'Gunn's got a broken arm, nothing worse. And Faith...' A look of worry sombered his face. He tried to wipe it, unsuccesfully. 'Willow says she'll be alright. Now I gotta go'.

He walked away from her, and Darla distinguished several forms lying on the floor, covered in blankets, and her nostrils were filled with the smell of blood whereas screaming and crying reached her ears. She saw Willow, Xander, Andrew and Anya rushing to take care of the injured ones. Then, everything started to get dizzy again, as another pang of pain overcame her.

Before she knew it, she had slipped into unconsciousness once more.

Imzadi: Hope you liked the Darla/Faith/Spike interaction in this chapter. I think they've got more in common than it appears. And once the whole Apocalypse and finding Connor are over, I think Darla will have some time to reflect on past faults and in certain someone. Keep reading to find out!

urbanstonerrock: I'm glad you've liked this, and that you think it's well written, especially as English isn't my mother tongue. I also think that Darla is an excellent character to write about, there's some much depth in her, so many different sides of her personality. Tell me what you think about her interaction with the Scoobies.

Next, in 'Ain't So Far Down': The final battle with the First Evil arrives, and Sunnydale slips into Hell, as the world changes forever...