1.
Darla had laughed the first time it crossed her mind, it was that ludicrous. Hysteria was her companion after confirming it. It defied all rules, challenged every existent law. Doctors died by the dozen when they had no answer, wizards wouldn't even touch the contradiction of her body.
No weapon could quiet its tiny heartbeat, no hate would deter it from coming to life. She could feel it feeding from her and giving nothing in return. It grew against her wishes, strengthened on her despise; that perfect demon she and Angelus had only dreamed to be.
It was a nightmare.
2.
Darla looked in frustration at the chaos following her arrival. Wesley cleaned his glasses desperately as he tried to decipher the steady thum-thum-thum against her silent insides. Cordelia would shoot remarks about her state as she surfed the Internet for clues. Angel just stared endlessly at her misshapen body, as if answers hid in the occasional bump a squeamish movement marked under her clothes.
She cared nothing for explanations, the biology and magic entwining in her womb made no sense for her. A solution was all she wanted, a weapon to get rid of it. Anything to end the madness.
3.
Prophecies or second sights meant nothing for her. She'd left them for her old-fashioned sire and later the power hungry lover she'd created.
But this time there was something Darla couldn't ignore. An age-old instinct, one that not even death could cheat, told her that her son would be important. More than his father could dream, dread or hope. It said more, that this baby would be the bringer of salvation or the portal to destruction.
It was the third knowledge which kept her awake. Either way, this human in her entrails would make sure she'd never witness the outcome.
4.
Three centuries of history died with her tonight. Darla knew it as soon as she stepped into the narrow alley. Holtz wouldn't relent from his hunt, chasing them until she was too tired to save either of them.
Stupid Darla.
So many lifetimes escaping from the ordinary woman she'd been. Yet here she was, dying the same death of thousands before her. Childbirth mortality was supposed to be a thing from the past, wasn't it? Beaten by science and the stubbornness of an entire race.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Three centuries wasted. Darla could feel the past rushing to reclaim her.