Author's Note: I hope to make this story into a long series. It's sort of like a summer project and hopefully I'll have the last part written and completed before the new season premieres. Hm, this fic is something myself and a web friend contemplated some time ago before the whole Pylea arc happened the way it did. We were just having fun with some ideas and speculating. You want to know more? Well, you'll just have to wait and read. :) The lyrics may seem out of place but let me know if so. I'm all about revisions.
Disclaimer: The Darla and Angel characters belong to Joss Whedon, the Kuzuis and FOX. No copyright infringement is intended. The following lyrics are from the “Drops of Jupiter" album performed by Train and “Hey Pretty" from the “Haunted" album by Poe.
Distribution: Just ask me. Send me an e-mail.
Summary: Darla thinks and thinks and eventually takes that big step.
Spoilers: The Darla arc in season 2 of ANGEL, especially in regards to Epiphany. No! Not like that, lol. :)
Category: Angst, Inner Reflection and Analysis
Dedication: This is for the Darla lovers out there or anyone that respects the character and her long history.
Thanks to: You know who you are.
Feedback: Love it. Bring it on.
Life of My Light
By Blue
“Hey, pretty. Don’t you want to take a ride with me to my world?"
The sun is calling me down that long stretch of hallway . . . it’s calling my name.
Calling me by my real name that I’ve conveniently forgotten over the years . . . until now.
No . . .
No, it’s calling her by that name.
I’ve lived a total of five lives, like a cat minus the other four. At least I can say that for now, anyway. Maybe I should name my first bodily existence on this earth “Da" then the second “Dar", the third “Darl" and the fourth, which was the so called new and improved, “Darla".
But it’d probably make more sense to start in the opposite direction. Darla began to fall apart at the seams since she began and ended up with no letters to her name.
How fitting and convenient (laughs to herself just a little) but what do I call myself now?
I need a shower to wash off all this stuff I can’t name. The problem is that in order to take one I’d either have to sneak my way into a fresh and clean one (which probably means a sure ticket to some carnage and I really don’t trust myself), or stand under that ever flowing and probably contaminated water “shower" I see in the corner of this “room," if you could call it that.
Well, I am a vampire now so does it matter? Why should it?
If you are wondering why in the world I’m saying all of this then you are not alone. I don’t know what in the world I’m doing here or what I’m saying. My mind is lost and wanders ever so often, but it’s still mine isn’t it? And for some awfully strange reason that’s a comforting feeling.
There goes that little mouse again taking his daily trip into the hallway. I guess the sun calls its name as well. I don’t know why I haven’t killed it yet. In fact spilled mouse blood sounds like a treat right now but . . . I don’t want to do that.
The last thing I need is another reminder of my past . . . and him. No, it’s her past and him. I’m not her anymore either.
It’s either new and improved or just nothing . . . and I have to choose.
Yes, I have to.
I have nothing left but myself. No power, no love, and no energy to do what most highly regarded vampires usually love to do: play games. I’m a Darla without a true face or even a mask. There was never a Darla like I am now or are turning out to be.
I’m currently Darla version number five (I guess that’s the right number), yet ironically I don’t think her name is Darla or any configuration of that name anymore. I mean after all, there is only so far you can go after using the last letter in the name Darla.
What’s in a name? What’s in a new name for someone that’s been reborn four and nearly five times and still counting?
I sit up but then . . . lay back down again staring at the sun’s dancing life before me.
I remember the peaceful sunshine and how some of my former selves hated it, but for some reason while looking at it from a distance it had become a distant friend, but even more so like a distant relative. She’s someone that’s been with me and in my blood all of these years, and whenever she wants decides to haunt me with her presence. She’s been doing this ever since I took up shop here calling my name, wanting me to dance with her again. She beckons me with feelings that are distinctly familiar yet soothing.
Day in and day out I’m literally hypnotized by her or thoughts of her.
Will I burn up alive and fade into ash if we dance?
I don’t know who or what to trust anymore.
I guess that’s because she’s trying to remind me of who and what I used to be, how I used to be, yes . . .
a little girl that loved the sun.
with drops of jupiter in her hair
she acts like summer and walks like rain
reminds me that there's time to change
since the return from her stay on the moon
she listens like spring and she talks like june
tell me did you sail across the sun
did you make it to the milky way to see the lights all faded
and that heaven is overrated
tell me, did you fall for a shooting star
one without a permanent scar
and did you miss me while you were looking at yourself out there
That’s all I ever did was dance in the sun again and again and again.
But when my life turned on me at such a young age, I turned away from life, the sun, and in turn the moon’s darkness embraced and welcomed me. I never knew the moon, but I was willing to give it a try since maybe there in his world there would be no more betrayal, no more taking advantage of, and yes, I could start anew.
I meant she could start anew . . . as a newly created and personified image named Darla.
(Darla takes a long pause.)
I don’t really remember much about whoever her name was. My conscience tries to respect her memory by forcing me to remember these memories of her life with very close friends, family, and yes, again, the sun. I guess they all loved her. Faintly, I can feel her moving through the air in those nice beautiful long dresses, laughing, playing little games with her friends, and all along feeling that ever-consuming feeling of sunshine prickling her skin.
But I’m not her. I’m just not, at least not anymore.
I need to work on version number five here and move towards something different.
Blood bottles smelling of a combination of blood and booze litter the floor. Yeah, I guess you can still say I’m working on acquiring that ultimate and glorious high. I don’t kill people anymore because, well, that requires interaction of the most boring kind.
(yawns and laughs a little to herself)
Hmmm, have I in turn created a substitute?
Blood and alcohol traded in for the sun's addicting love? Maybe that sun has more of an effect on me than I thought.
The blood-alcohol concoction gives me a heady rush indeed and makes me feel so powerful and real that I could do just about anything. I could be self-content, and still make it through another full day of contemplation without thinking about the past or him.
aka "Drowning my Sorrows"
I swear I must be cracking myself up in more ways than one.
I’m never in the sunlight’s reach now, but I watch it dance before me nonstop for hours everyday in that long hallway. I don’t want to pass just yet mind you. My time is still precious, I think. I watch her flicker from a distance and from time to time I hear her calling me by that name again and again. Funny, sometimes it uses Angel’s voice, beckoning me to:
“Just try a little harder Darla."
“I believe in you."
“Dance with me, Darla."
Did he really say those things? Or maybe I just wish he did. I’ve lived so many lives that I can’t even tell my past from my past.
Angel’s my fire.
Even now he burns and consumes me like fire. I don’t think I need to explain why.
That’s pretty self-explanatory.
(Darla winks.)
And even though he’s so far away right now I can still feel his flickers of flames dancing on my skin, especially now. After that night and for every night thereafter, I place his ring on the counter top and stare at it when the sun in down.
Yes, sunlight and flames go hand in hand, something I desperately want to forget, I think.
Yet the sun has a strange way of reminding me of what I want in life.
But right now, for a short moment, I’m seriously contemplating ending it all at that altar of fire and sun, him and my past rolling into one again and again and again bursting into flames and ash.
It’ll be like Hell.
(a little laugh)
“Dance with me, Darla."
And yes, in a strange way all of these thoughts of mine (yes, they are mine) are eerily some kind of wonderful.
Maybe the sun won’t hurt me and burn me up alive. Angel did it once . . . literally. Will the sun do it to me also?
Then again I can’t help but think I’m hallucinating all of this, that I’m losing my mind as I lay here in this abandoned building shut off from the world and what Angel loves by choice and not. I spend my entire days like this. Everyday I get up at around sunrise and from a distance watch the sunlight rise ever so slowly up the windowless windowpanes that illuminate the ever-stretching hallway far ahead of me. All day I lie across this ratty couch, and just stare out at the light flickering and dancing on the decaying walls and floors like we used to dance together.
Like Angel used to dance with me.
Oh, that day.
I prefer not to think of it, yet at the same time I can’t stop thinking about it. How can I? I’ve been shaped by the being that spent most of her time thinking and distressing over “flame" boy, and I’m not the strong vamp I was before. And as a human the second time around, I’m left with the constant reminder of that gullible and tragic girl not so long ago.
I’m irrevocably changed not for better or for worse. No, not really.
I’m just here, don’t know why, with so many questions about myself, my situations, lives, etcetera and on and on and on.
Yes, everyday I lay upon this couch and like I said before, I contemplate the true death, the one that would put an end to any more Darlas or whoever she was. Please let there also be no more flames that like to lick yet not stay, and no more dancing suns.
Yet, I can’t take my eyes away from those dancing images in front of me or my past . . . or him.
I should just suck it all up and get on with my so very interesting life.
Yeah, that’s the plan, at least for today that is.
Tomorrow is just a question mark as it always is.
Who knows what it holds for me?
Would you believe me if I told you she was named after the sun? Her true name was Noor—ironically meaning “God’s Light" in some foreign language I can barely remember; yet her friends and family called her Nora since it was more Anglo sounding.
tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet
did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
and head back to the milky way
and tell me, did venus blow your mind
was it everything you wanted to find
and did you miss me while you were looking at yourself out there
Yeah, sure, sun . . . I’ll give you another try.
I’ll trust you one more time.
I get up slowly yet I hesitate at first, and then walk and walk and walk . . .
I’m almost there at the first sunbeam. I can feel its heat radiating on to me and my skin tingles with fear and curiosity.
But before I touch it, I put on Angel’s ring for some inexplicable reason and just when I’m practically bathed in sunlight, yearning for more and brimming with silent excitement, the door to my humble “abode" surprisingly opens and it is the one and only Lindsey McDonald.
Part 2
Hyperion
~3:00 pm in sunny yet cool L.A.~
It’s quiet in the Hyperion, a sound not really a sound but very familiar and becoming to the old hotel. In the main area from morning till now three tall men stood, sat, walked back and forth, and silently regarded each other or at times the walls and columns of the Hyperion.
And, in those moments when either of the three men silently contemplated the Hyperion, the Hyperion itself would react back in no physical way or form. It watched the crew go on its seemingly exciting missions time and time again and awaited the days when those times would change. Hm, maybe that moment was now. They provided great entertainment indeed with their fights both physical and verbal, and no one was more interesting than the lead vampire that stood among them.
Now he was someone of color and never a boring shade of blue.
Unlike the crew the Hyperion had no emotional lifestyle, so it lived either through silence or others, unless you counted that time ago when its walls were haunted by a paranoia-sucking demon. Ah, yes, that fellow, well, same vampire over there knows of that affair. Ah, but those times are gone now and so is that endless yet seemingly comforting chatter . . .
Oh well, silence is my life and I will stand here until . . .
Angel: “For once the silence (quiet) is killing me."
Death befalls me.
Angel rubs his brow and as if searching for an answer looks up and sees the dancing sunbeams on the Hyperion walls. For once he doesn’t feel burdened, he’s free and also hypnotized.
The beauty of the sun . . .
“Wesley, we have to do something," slowly coming out of his trance.
is calling me.
Yes, it’s been silent for too long.
“I know Angel," Wesley says firmly without the used-to-be-there stammering, yet ironically his hands were doing a “stammering" of their own, flipping through various books of different shapes and sizes for what seemed like for hours. He had an ever-present frown on his face that deepened during times of innocent remembrance of his dear friend Cordelia.
He’d been researching for quite some time and regretfully he hated what he was about to say, “But I’ve reached an end here." Wesley braces himself on what the Hyperion remembered was simply called the main lobby desk, that long torturous thing. “I’ve researched every book . . . thoroughly . . . that deals with inter-dimensional travel and it’s just not . . . feasible."
Angel grimaces slightly. “Don’t say that . . ."
“Well, it’s the truth Angel. We have some very difficult and possibly compromising decisions to make in the few minutes time we have and . . ." Wesley wavers just a bit, “and I do mean life threatening not just for Cordelia . . . but for all of us."
“Look Wesley, we . . . every time we go out that door . . ." The Hyperion perks up at those words as Angel stands and tries to find the right words, “We take a chance. We risk our lives everyday for one reason: to help those people that need help. Except this time this is Cordelia that needs us, Wesley." Angel sighs and then says, “There just simply has to be a way" and tries to believe the words that came from his mouth.
Don’t believe the foreboding truth behind Wesley’s words.
“Angel’s right" says Gunn, his voice echoing a bit in the Hyperion. Hyperion: Wow, nice vibration there. “Look, this is Cordy we are talking about here Wesley and I know you aren’t going to give up on her that easily."
“Gunn, I didn’t say . . ."
“No, you didn’t have to. Do I have to say this again? This is Cordelia . . ." Gunn starts to get a little deeper in thought but suddenly looks down at the ground sweetly imagining Cordelia, “the sweet, sympathetic, gracious, humble . . ." Gunn laughes to himself.
Wes and Angel look at Gunn with a bit of confusion in their eyes.
“Um, Gunn, we remember Cordelia."
Wes and Angel look at Gunn with slight amusement. Their brains finally “click" as understanding occurs between them.
“Yeah, of course, you do" Gunn smiles some more before going back into worry mode.
“And we will. We’ll get her back Gunn," Angel says with a warm smile and then walks around a bit. “We just have to find a way." Angel sits down. “Wes, I still don’t understand why we can’t just enter the same portal that sucked Cordelia through or any portal really to this dimension Cordelia ended up at. There has to be plenty of portals around LA."
“Well, we could possibly take any portal, but there’s a very high chance we won’t be able to find a corresponding portal that leads exactly back to this dimension. Each portal leads to a specific world or dimension like the one you recalled in the art museum does to Jheira’s world. You can’t just use one to take you to any destination."
So Gunn says, “So what you are saying is basically we may end up lost in any number of dimensional lands out there that exist?"
Wesley answers, “Exactly, in accordance our problem isn’t arriving in the right world Cordelia ended up at. Like Angel said earlier we could just perform a ritual (if we could find one) that would allow us to enter said world through the exact same portal that sucked her through but . . . even though we may have a chance at saving Cordelia, afterwards we may end up wandering the inter-dimensional worlds forever or . . . at least until we tire out and die.
Angel sees a loophole here, “But even by your own admission Wesley, can’t we just make sure we remember which portal we come through in this world Cordelia is and just return via that portal?"
“That’s the other issue, Angel. Every world has different laws of everything and are therefore situated and made differently from our world, meaning that the portal we use to get there may be one literally in a different position."
“Like out of the sky?" says Gunn.
Wes nods “Or may even lead us back to LA but to a different period of time. You see? Situations and time move differently in these other worlds. There are many elements to consider in this equation of saving Cordelia. This is the situation we are facing and I’m . . ." Wesley takes a deep breath and looks down into a book. But then a little later looks confidently up into their eyes, “more than ready to find Cordelia, but I want her to come back to what she remembers: our world in this time."
The gang has a mutual silence.
Wesley tries to begin again.
“As of now we know that the portal to the karaoke bar leads to wherever Cordelia traveled to. So at least we know that much. The problem like I said before is getting there but also we have to keep in mind that we are arriving in a world very different from ours and must be as inconspicuous as possible so as to not call attention to ourselves."
“Incognito style . . .," Gunn says.
“Exactly," says Wes.
Wesley’s right. “You’re right, Wesley" says Angel.
Angel goes back within. Thinking hard. Tries to think of alternatives, ways to get to the other dimension and then . . .
What’s this?
Something comes to him.
Wesley continues, “if we can find a way to get there"
Darla . . .
“that also allows us to return safely"
Oh no, how could I have forgotten about that . . . the ring.
“then that would be"
she must have it
“the best route for everyone"
is she still here?
“especially Cordelia."
I have to find her . . . Darla, but how? Angel sighs.
Hyperion: Oh where to begin, huh lone vampire, especially with her? You have a long way to go.
What . . . who said that?
“Angel, man?" says Gunn.
I swear I must be losing it.
“Angel?" more strongly.
“Hm?" Angel looks up out of his trance.
“What are you thinking about? Or do you have any new and bright ideas? Looks like you were lost there for a second unless you might have a plan to get us out of a less than messy situation here." Gunn looks at Wesley.
Angel thinks on that for a minute and surprises them both, “Yeah, I think so. I think I’ve got one." And immediately after Angel thinks to himself, “Would she still have it? But more importantly would it still work and for all of us? Should I take that chance? It could lead to no where . . . like everything else plus . . ."
I already told her the next time I saw her, I’d kill her on sight.
Just great . . .
“Uh, hmm, earth to Angel," says Gunn.
Hyperion: Angel, you have an audience.
I’ll save that last thought for later which is right around the corner.
Who said that?
Angel runs his hands through his hair and looks up . . . point blank at both Wes and Gunn. Yeah, he could see it alright. They were depending on him for the next call of action . . . to save their dear friend.
Yeah, I’m going to have to take that chance.
Angel stands.
“I think I know how or at least have an idea, nothing definite. I have to go and see if it’s even possible but I’ll be right back as soon as I can."
Wesley stays silent waiting for some hint as to Angel’s direction in all of this.
“But where are you going?" says Gunn.
Angel sighs, “To see an old past-time. Just don’t stake when I return, okay?"
Enough with the déjà vu.
Both Gunn and Wes’s brains do that “clicking" thing, finally registering Angel’s intentions while Angel departs like he has on so many other missions.
The sound of the cellar door closing shut brings their entire situation along with every possible risk home.
And silently the Hyperion waits along with them for his . . . no, correction . . .
their return.
Part 3
Darla’s humble abode
~The sun begins to worry and it’s 4:30 pm~
Silence.
That’s what lies between Darla and Lindsey until it’s broken by the most unexpected sound, well maybe not too unexpected:
Darla’s laughter.
Yet this isn’t the usually soft and insensitive kind, just plain weak and amusing.
Oh, the irony.
Just when you think your life starts to turn around for the better Darla, someone from your past always comes back to return that ungrateful bite of fate, and right now it’s personified itself in the form of Lindsey . . .
for the second time.
Darla stares at Lindsey and usually when it came to him, she never wavered on what to do or how to do it. She could read him like the palm of her hand. He was controllable, yet now she sensed he was different . . . he wasn’t controllable anymore.
Should I play a game with him? Or should I just stand here, and stare at him in this motionless state until he says the first word? I can see his mind . . . working … and it seems like he’s trying to figure out what’s his side of the line: Wolfram & Hart or his own, or maybe his purpose?
He doesn’t know who he is. Never did, but then again who does? Look at me. I’m a complete mess. Why should I expect any different from anyone else?
Maybe I should take a chance and just laugh in his face some more? See what he’ll do? He’s come back to me for some reason. What does he want? I have nothing left to give, not even to you Lindsey, but he’s not the same since I last saw him.
I can sense that for certain . . . and now, suddenly the answer comes to Darla.
Sun playing with the hairs on my wrists, is this the beginning of my last moment on this earth?
The sun moves its beams over Darla’s eyes in affirmation.
Is Lindsey my angel of death come to dance with me one last time?
The sun’s rays stop their sway but Darla doesn’t notice. She’s too immersed in the possibility and nearness of her own death again, another death.
Someone’s knocking on my door.
Well, if it means death then so be it.
I welcome it gladly and . . .
“Oh really?" the sun enquires. “You seemed so happy immersed in my light and life before. Surely you jest about dying this time, Darla."
Darla grips her right wrist where the sun was playing not too long ago.
Even though it’d be more poetic justice for my prior death’s angel to be the one that kills me, this is close enough.
This is enough . . .
It’ll do and I’m tired.
Right, just too tired to care.
*******
“Have to hurry," thinks Angel. “I’m walking through the sewers and still have no idea exactly where I’m going. Just keep walking. Can I still sense her? (sighs) Something will lead me there. Something."
*******
Lindsey takes his eyes away from Darla’s lost ones, finally noticing the slow flow of blood dripping from her wrist.
But I want to hear it from him. Come on, Lindsey, tell me why you are truly here.
I guess to find out I have to play along one last time. Come on Darla! Put on another acting score!
Skirt death but this time go down . . . facing it.
Unconsciously, Darla moves her bleeding wrist behind her back. She doesn’t even seem aware of it or the heavy smell of blood permeating the room.
Alright, do I have my “sing-song" voice ready?
Check.
Raised eyebrow ready?
Check.
Heavy breathing?
Check.
I swear I kill myself sometimes. Look at me making a joke out of my impending death. The end of the world must be near.
The sun’s rays begin to sway again. Darla doesn’t notice.
Okay, ready.
“So you find me again, Lindsey. Here you are back again but for what purpose, what reason this time?"
Darla pauses.
“Do you love me Lindsey? Is that why you came back?"
Lindsey looks Darla in the eye and seems a bit taken aback.
Darla smiles—but this time it’s a broad one.
Yes, he’s definitely not here for any romantic favors and I know this. Touché. Press further.
*******
Angel keeps walking in a seemingly directionless direction, yet begins to smell something . . . blood . . . Darla’s blood. Why would she be . . .? Angel hurries.
*******
“Why so silent Lindsey? Cat got your tongue?" Darla leans against the hallway wall, “So please tell me about your exciting life. How’s Lilah? Still trying to keep up and be a big “guy" at Wolfram & Hart, huh?"
Lindsey again stays silent.
Okay, this is annoying . . . and I’m really too tired to play any longer and especially for this nonsense.
Lets change our tune shall we? Come on death. I’ve faced you in way scarier and tempting packages than this.
“Look Lindsey. I’m tired and I don’t have time to waste on anyone that suddenly pops in and out of my life, not even you", and Darla says to herself, “I’m sick of this déjà vu."
Lindsey looks her in the eye and says, “There is a reason why I came."
Finally.
*******
“Yes, finally" says Angel. He climbs through a manhole and ends up in a warehouse. “She’s here somewhere in this . . . sheesh, when has she ever lived like this? Reminds me of myself when my best company was rats . . . still smell the blood. Angel looks around and sees a staircase or at least it resembled one. Go.
*******
Darla says, “You do? So what is it? It’s got to be something. Help? Finally want to take down Wolfram & Hart for good?" Darla gets more restless, “I certainly don’t have anything else to give and I’m not going to."
“Yes . . . you are."
Touché again. Score two points for Lindsey, zero for Darla.
Okay, I didn’t expect that . . . you’re losing the battle here Darla.
She didn’t like where this conversation was going. Again she was feeling that familiar serpent tightening around her throat sucking her blood dry.
And yet, no, it couldn’t be.
Darla feels a tingle run through her hand and her throat runs dry.
Angel’s coming this way.
So I see fate. You didn’t just send one person from my past, but two. Fate is definitely knocking. Something or someone is trying to kill me again. Could it be Angel returning to kill me because he got bored, didn’t have anything else to fight or kill? But I haven’t laid eyes on him since that night. I’m so confused. Something is amiss here and it feels like it has Lindsey written all over it. You don’t take any chances in getting rid of me do you, fate? I guess I’m really playing your game, not Lindsey’s, not Angel’s, and definitely not mine, but yours.
Darla laughes to herself.
All along you were my life long enemy.
Darla steps back just a little.
Hear Angel’s footsteps.
I’ve already got three lives written in God’s books. Is there room for more?
There is that window at the end of the hallway. Maybe I could just . . .
Angel or Lindsey?
Lindsey. Lindsey’s the one . . . I can feel it. Yes, you are the serpent around my neck, Lindsey.
Oh and you must have a motive, don’t we all have one of those? I’m not so confused to not have figured out yours.
*******
Upon entering, Darla knew Lindsey’s hesitation was over her different “circumstances." Yes, she was standing as boldly as could be in the sunlight and NOT bursting into flames and a pile of dust.
Why hadn’t he asked yet? What is he thinking?
Oh, yeah, how am I going to kill Ms. Darla Vamp number five and take the ring!
Face it Darla.
Are you going to fight and tell fate to kiss its own? You could kill Lindsey you know?
No, that’s not even a choice but . . .
*******
Darla looks back at the window.
“What’s it going to be Lindsey? Who are you going to choose?" Lindsey’s mind was working over time. He knew he wanted to see Darla again yet couldn’t figure out why. He thought he sought her out because he wanted to be with her, just be around her for some unidentifiable reason. Yet when he finally laid eyes upon her, she was, well, in the sunlight . . . the sunlight . . . how?
And then . . .
Lindsey looks over Darla trying to notice anything different.
The ring . . .
Of course . . . but the ceremony took half the meeting. We disenchanted it. I’m sure of it.
Reactivation maybe?
Maybe . . . there’s more to Darla than possible? There’s no other explanation for this. I tried it on earlier and it didn’t do anything different to me.
Hm, maybe it only works on demons.
There’s only one thing though that must never happen: Angel can’t know about this.
Yeah, I’ve left Wolfram & Hart for good but . . .
“Who are you going to choose, Lindsey?"
Nature’s calling.
*******
“Lindsey?" Darla says.
I’ve taken that step forward only to realize I haven’t moved at all.
“Yeah, Darla . . ." Lindsey catches himself. He flashes Darla a smile.
“I told you before Lindsey."
“I know what you said Darla but please let me help you. You do have something to give," says Lindsey while looking at Darla’s ring, the one Darla’s practically forgotten about until now . . .
Ah, motive check again. Oh enemy and once friend, you’ve now declared your side. You can’t look me in the eye because you lie. Oh Lindsey . . . why do you have to be so obvious Lindsey . . . and Angel’s nearing.
“Why? Lindsey, I’ve been standing in the blaring sunlight for half an hour and you still haven’t asked me . . . why are you really here?"
He wants the ring. You know the answer.
The question suddenly twists Lindsey just a little further and turns into something darker: that straight answer.
“Give me a straight answer, Lindsey."
Lindsey’s eyes darken. “Let’s just say . . . I had an epiphany the moment I saw you just now."
There goes that dreaded word again. “An epiphany? And how come I’m not surprised? I seem to be the source of men’s epiphanies all of a sudden."
“I guess you just have all of the answers, Darla, and you’ve got one waiting for me. I’m sorry, but . . . my purpose in life awaits me and . . .
In the sleeve of his shirt was a stake.
Do you think you would have the guts to carry out such a task if this situation didn’t come up, Lindsey? The ring is your purpose or at least gives you one even if you never get it in your possession. This is perfect timing and it’s time to play fate. What has to be done has to be done, so do it now.
Like Darla preached and lived by—power was everything and you were beginning to understand that even more so away from Wolfram & Hart. Even after you left and Holland’s death, Holland’s lessons still continued. You’re not denying that anymore.
“I’ve chosen."
Lindsey reaches for the stake in his sleeve and takes a step closer . . .
Darla takes another step back.
I knew I should have turned Lindsey. He’d be dust by now.
No, I’m not letting fate win this time. Not anymore.
Lindsey takes another step forward and just when he’s about to unleash the stake and fully attack Darla . . .
“Lindsey?" a foreign yet very familiar voice eases its way between them “I thought you left town?" Angel then looks over at Darla and notices no wounds. Strange.
Angel.
Damn.
Darla looks at Angel confused, and then back to Lindsey and his stake hiding in his sleeve.
“Leave, the both of you."
Angel looks away from Lindsey.
“Darla, . . . I’m not asking you to forget or understand but . . . just hear me out . . ." and then Angel finally notices. Up until now the sun was barely even in the sky but the few rays there were were all over Darla.
Darla’s in the sunlight? Never thought sunlight and Darla actually fit . . . yet some how the picture's right.
“Look, I know what the both of you came here for," Darla raises her voice. “You both want the ring don’t you? Well, you know what?" If they want it I’ll leave it for them to fight over. I’m leaving . . . again.
Darla starts to take it off.
But, it wouldn’t come off. Darla continues to tug and then looks closely at her finger. The ring was practically glued and fitted to her finger.
“No."
The last and fading sunrays flicker on Darla’s ring and Darla faintly hears the dying sun say “Yes."
“No, what? Darla?" says Angel.
Great. Now I’m going to be forced to do Angel’s bidding again. I’m sick of being the world’s whore.
Darla looks up at Angel with a look that fully tells him just what.
I hate . . . you . . . this . . . both (sighs) . . . I don’t know.
Angel swallows and tries to speak further. “Darla, I know I shouldn’t be here . . . and especially not to ask for your help but . . . damn," Angel says in a whisper, “I’m sorry."
Why are my eyes getting wet? No, they aren’t.
Darla looks away and Angel recounts to her and Lindsey what happened to Cordelia.
“I think the ring will help us get Cordelia back. It obviously has some sort of undefined power," Then Angel says in an amazed yet ironically pleased tone, “You can touch the sunlight, Darla."
He noticed.
Darla slowly looks up at him, questioning, yet she was burning inside with repressed emotions.
Angel continues to stare at Darla in amazement even though the sun’s weakening rays are barely on her anymore.
I’m simply hypnotized but by which? Am I hypnotized by the sunlight, Darla, or both? I don’t know.
Remembering their circumstances again, Angel lowers his gaze to the floor.
“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now but we’ve tried everything, and it seems like using the ring would be a sure shot to guarantee everyone’s safety."
Angel, so concerned about everyone’s safety, even Lindsey’s I assume, everyone except . . .
Darla continues to stare at him.
You just keep taking don’t you Angel? I don’t have anything else to give because you practically took everything and now you want this too?
Darla finally speaks, “Why don’t you just kill me to get what you want this time, Angel? Ending my undead life hasn’t stopped you before from getting what you wanted. Come on lover, let it be like old times."
Angel remembers "I already told her the next time I saw her, I’d kill her on sight."
Angel looks up at Darla. He doesn’t know what to say or how to respond. He did say that and he said it so easily then.
“No, you don’t want to kill me, and you know why don't you? Because just in case you need me for something whether it be to get rid of me, to do your bidding, to get your rocks off oh let’s not forget that one, and now this ring you won’t kill me."
Darla looks expressionless at Angel. She didn’t know it was possible but Angel’s complexion turned an even paler shade of white.
Waiting and then Darla finally surprises everyone.
“You can use the ring . . ." Darla says finally giving up. “but I go along to wherever you’re going, and I don’t come back. I want to leave this world and you for good and if that means providing you with the means to accomplish your goal then so be it."
Angel nods.
“But I’m not helping you. Let’s make this clear. This is not called helping because that’s the last thing I want to do for anyone and most of all you. I will not be used this time. Never. Is that clear?"
I understand that. Angel stares into space. Waiting.
“Yeah."
"After this whole thing, I never want to see you again. Because if I do maybe I'll be the one to stake on sight," Darla wavers a bit and some tears come to her eyes.
"I am not a whore," Darla says softly. Lindsey didn't hear her but Angel did and he realized the full meaning of his and Darla's situation now. He had his epiphany, but now he realized he still didn't understand everything and every how afterwards. The truth always comes back to show you the direction of your ways.
Hyperion: Oh where to begin, huh lone vampire, especially with her? You have a long way to go.
Angel: I understand, understand, understand . . . I made her feel like . . . of course, so blind.
Darla: I will not break down. I've lived without him for 150 years. I can live an eternity without every seeing his face. I get what I want . . . this time.
I won’t be the loser this time.
You hear that Angel? You hear that, Lindsey? Tell your stake that too.
“Let’s go," says Darla and they both leave Lindsey alone to contemplate his next plan of action until . . .
“Want to help Lindsey?" Angel says trying to change gears after Darla.
Darla freezes in mid-step and for that split second Angel does notice.
“Sure."
And the sun disappears completely from the sky.
Part 4
Hyperion
~8:00 pm in dark and cool L.A.~
Silence.
“So how much longer should we wait? It’s been more than three hours, Wesley."
“Angel will be here any moment."
“You said that an hour ago," says Gunn.
Suddenly realizing the truth of Gunn’s statement, Wesley says, “Yes, I did," and with a little worry “maybe we should call Kate . . ." but instead Wesley's hand pulls open a drawer behind the Hyperion desk, “and of course Angel forgets his cell phone."
He shows Gunn Angel’s ever-elusive and favorite possession: the cell phone.
Gunn cracks a smile but then remembers,
“So you really think Angel’s bringing Darla back here?"
“Yes," says Wesley.
“Do you know why or have an idea?"
“Not really, but we’ll get our answers soon enough." Wesley nods toward the doors.
And at that time Angel, Darla, and Lindsey who's following a little behind, enter the Hyperion looking very grave, yet for different reasons. Angel knew ahead of time that he was going to have a difficult time explaining Darla’s presence to Wes and Gunn. Darla was a bit apprehensive and though she didn’t know exactly why, she knew Lindsey’s appearance and Angel’s friends were the cause. Lindsey kept his eyes off Darla but not his mind.
Silence.
Hyperion: Welcome back. Welcome back lone one and yes, congratulations. You convinced her to come.
“Angel, you’re back and I see you brought with you . . ." says Wesley.
“ . . . two friends," finishes Gunn.
Angel walks down the entrance steps. “Let me explain everything. I know this looks . . . suspicious and no I haven’t turned evil, but I think I’ve found a way to bring Cordelia back, and yes, Darla is the key. I just asked Lindsey to come and help out and he agreed."
Gunn just stays silent continuing to stare at Darla, who’s staring into space not really paying attention to anything or Angel's words.
Please let there be *something* in this for me.
Gunn speaks up, “Okay, I’ve gotta sit down for this one. So Darla’s the key to finding Cordelia?," says Gunn.
“W-why is Darla the key to finding Cordelia?," says Wesley.
“You see this ring on her finger?" Angel points to the ring on Darla’s right hand. “It’s called the Band of Blacknil and it allows …"
“the wearer of it to travel through space and time," finishes Wesley.
Angel looks as Wes half shocked.
“You’ve heard of it?" says Angel.
“Yes ... where have I read about this before?" He checks his books.
Gunn stares at Darla, “Do you know if this band can work with more than one person?"
“I’m not sure, but I think . . ."
“Angel’s right. Yes! See here? This is what the band looks like and yes …" Wesley walks up to Darla a little, “that is the one on Darla’s finger there."
Angel looks over at Wesley’s book, recognizes it. “Wes, where did you get this book?"
“At a bookstore-closing sale. It turns out the store was owned by a fellow named Dalton. He was murdered and no one knows by whom."
Darla sits down on the Hyperion steps.
Yep, it was me that killed him. Go ahead and tell them Angel.
Angel swallows.
“Yeah, I remember him. He helped me quite a bit."
“Really? Well, it’s by fate’s luck that this book fell into my hands. Let’s all sit down in the office shall we? Now that we have the ring in addition to Darla and Lindsey willing to help, well then, I think it’s time we formulate a plan."
Everyone walks toward the office except Darla still not understanding why she’s returned to the place where her and Angel got reacquainted. How could she forget?
“Darla?" says Angel concerned and thinking of the same exact thing. "So he’s remembering their secret too? He probably hasn’t been able to forget it either," thinks Darla.
Hyperion: Such awful memories, dear? Don’t worry. You’ll soon be able to create new and better ones ... soon.
Darla looks up. Who was that? “What?" she says softly.
Gunn looks at Darla, “Are you coming? We need your help here."
“Yes, Darla, please join us," says Wesley.
Angel just stares at her and then finally says, “Yes, we do ... need your help."
Darla gets up slowly and, "but ...," not forgetting looks back at Lindsey with a hint of fear in her eyes.
Again, Angel notices.
What’s going on between them? Why would Darla be afraid of Lindsey? I’m probably just seeing things.
Hyperion: Are you sure?
No.
“This way," says Angel and he leads her with everyone else following into the office except Lindsey who lags behind.
“Lindsey. Are you coming?" says Angel.
“No, actually, I think . . . I’m sorry about what happened to your friend, Cordelia, and you should find her now that Darla has the ring."
“Sure," says Angel.
Why did he say her name like that?
“I remembered something I have to do. I have a pressing engagement I have to get to, but best of luck, man."
“Yeah, take care Lindsey."
Lindsey exits the Hyperion.
Hyperion: Trust your instincts lone one.
“Right. Keep your eyes wide open, Angel. Keep them wide open," Angel says to himself as he’s the last to enter the office.
Darla notices that Angel enters alone.
“Did Lindsey leave?" Darla asks immediately.
“Yes," taken aback by her urgency but ... she’s speaking to me.
Darla sighs a bit and leans back in her chair.
Yeah, she’s definitely fearful of him for some reason.
In the office everyone tries to look comfortable, relaxed even, but the tension is very high. Everyone waits as Wesley looks over specific passages that provide information on the Band of Blacknil. Upon completing, Wesley clears his throat and speaks.
“Ever since I got this book, I’ve been reading it extensively every spare second I got before Cordelia’s disappearance. The material, focusing on different mystical objects and treasures is fascinating to say the least."
Wesley clears his throat again.
“Darla?" says Wesley.
Is he speaking to me?
Hyperion: Of course he is.
“Yes?" says Darla softly.
“Do you know there are three types of beings that can wear the band? One can wear the ring and nothing will happen. The ring would act like one of those token rings you can buy for five cents. The other type can wear the band and basically travel through space and time, yet their traveling power is only reserved for themselves. They can also perform some spells with the ring but nothing major. In other words they get to “sample" out the ring but never use it to its fullest potential. The other type of wearer is you."
Angel looks at Darla.
“There are similar characteristics among all of the previous true band of Blacknil wearers, the ones that came before you that you also share. For instance, most of them lived many lives …"
“What? Were they vampires?," asks Darla.
He’s has to be joking.
“No, from all of the accounts you are the first vampire, but you as anyone should know there are other ways people can return from the dead. These same people also had a strange kinship of sorts with the sun. It’s been noted that during times of illness wearing the ring in the sunlight helped heal the wearer."
I didn’t even notice before but I do feel …better, mentally anyway.
Wesley continues, “The true wearer of the ring has many powers of which most of them we don’t know much about, except for the obvious one: you have the power to travel through time and space without the need of assistance or devices such as portals. Unlike the second type I talked about which has the power to travel through time in a singular fashion, you as a true wearer actually become the portal. Which means you can take as many people or things with you where ever you go."
“How is Darla a portal?" asks Angel still looking in Darla’s direction.
“Yeah, I mean, that’s kind of freaky," says Gunn.
“Well, in a sense all Darla has to do is think of us or whomever she wants to bring along with her. When she’s in the traveling mode she’ll be surrounded by a special energy which directly originates from the sun and ironically is the type of essence that energizes regular portals."
“So, how do I get in this traveling mode? I don’t simply just think about it?"
“Actually, it is that simple" says Wesley. “And if you don’t know what and where the place looks like then all you need in your possession is an artifact, anything from said place and hold that in your right hand, the one bearing the band."
“And we have right here a book from the world Cordelia disappeared to."
“I see," says Darla.
“What do you think? Are you ready?" asks Angel.
Darla sighs.
“Yeah, are you?" says Darla staring right back.
*******
Lilah was living the life. Since Lindsey was out of her hair she never had to look back out of fear for her life.
Lilah walked into her four-star office with confidence. She’d just won another big case for the firm and was proving herself to be a pretty good investment for Wolfram & Hart, but there was still one very prickly thorn in her side.
Angel.
She still didn’t have a plan to get Angel out of her side for good. As long as he was around he would make her plans to stay with Wolfram and Hart more difficult, and she couldn’t take that chance like she did before. Before she was lucky, now it was only her with no Lindsey to share the blame.
Lilah swivels around in her chair.
Los Angeles. Such a beautifully evil city. So much potential.
“There has to be a way," and she looked down. There by her feet was piece of paper. She picked it up.
“Must be from the secretary. That absent-minded fool."
Lilah reads the note silently to herself.
Lindsey.
“Hm, let’s see what tricks that cat has under his sleeves."
Lilah grabbed her bag and headed for Lindsey’s apartment.
*******
“You got to be kidding me. You are going to show me how to use the ring?"
“Yes," says Wesley. “Do you not trust my knowledge?"
“I just don’t want to see myself turn into a pull of portal energy and disappear. I do want …"
“It’ll be fine. Okay, let’s begin shall we."
Darla nods.
*******
And then began the lesson and I answered all of Wesley’s questions. He asked and asked me questions about anything unusual occurring after wearing the ring, anything significant about my relation to the sun. Absentmindedly, I began to tell him what I haven’t told anyone: my childhood love for the sun.
He looked kind of surprised, but then again not quite considering my condition.
"A four-hundred year old vampire with a kinship to the sun. Well, Angel did mention her love for a view," Wesley thought.
“Well, you definitely fit the profile. Having a life long relation to the sun in some form is significant."
“Yeah."
“No really. Darla not just anybody becomes the true wearer of the ring. The fact that you are means you are very special. Angel told me earlier that when we travel to wherever Cordelia is you want to stay and go on from there?"
“Yeah, that’s my plan."
“Do you ever consider maybe working with us instead?"
“What?"
He must be kidding.
“Well, we could possibly help you to adjust. The ring allows you to be in the sunlight. Maybe it also helps lessen the bloodlust or other emotions."
“Now, that you mention it just a few hours ago I was bleeding and I didn’t even notice the smell of my own blood … but it doesn’t matter."
“Fate is not out to get you Darla and doing what fate doesn’t expect of you may help. The forces of good chose you to wear this ring and no one else. It’s evil that wants you dead, Darla."
Darla looks up at Wesley.
Like Lindsey.
In the corner of my eye I could see Angel talking to Gunn in the main lobby. Wes and I were still in the office. Every now and then Angel would look back at us, eyes lingering, catching mine and then looking away.
I wish he would stop doing that.
Hyperion: Suuuure.
Darla blushes.
“So, let’s test out the ring and your capabilities in bringing others along with you. Now, Darla, think of any place you would like to go to. Think about us being there. It can be any place."
I close my eyes and smile. Hmmm, I feel warm. Just like back then when I was a child, dancing in the sunlight. Memories of a dying age.
I open my eyes.
Sunlight. Everywhere. A nice breeze. The beach. Life.
And Wesley standing before me.
I smile. Truly smile. I can’t believe it.
“Oh my God," says Wesley “It worked! Darla, you did it!"
And I did.
“Darla? Wesley? Where did they go?"
It’s Angel. I can hear him.
“I think we better go back. Angel’s ... worried."
“Oh dear, well that must be another extra power that comes along with wearing the ring. Well, I guess we better go back. Maybe when you decide when to work with us we can all come back here for a much needed vacation. I'm sure Cordelia would love it here. Beam us up Darla." Wesley smiles.
Darla smiles to herself.
Think Darla. Hyperion. Hotel. 2001. Angel. Arms.
Arms?
And we are back and some how I end up back where I was but this time with Angel holding me.
I quickly brake away. He’s just as confused as I am.
How in the world did that happen?
“Angel! The band works and Darla’s the true wearer! Finally we can find Cordelia," says Wesley. Wesley doesn't take note of Angel trying to get a hold of himself.
How did that happen. First I was standing here and all of a sudden I find myself holding ... actually holding her.
“Uh, really? That’s great."
And it felt ... nice.
And again, “That’s great."
"Where’s Gunn?"
"He went out for a little bit. Had to settle something with his crew. He should be back within the hour."
"Great. Well, we should be ready to go when he gets back. Oh Angel, the feeling of time traveling is exhilarating," and Wesley runs upstairs to pack.
Angel looks at Darla who's still beaming from her experience.
"It felt ... wonderful."
"Really?" Oh yeah, she meant the time traveling, not the ...
Hyperion: Embrace? Holding? Tenderness?
I wanted to say to whomever put that thought in my head to "bite me" but instead I say to Darla, "Yeah, it was nice."
*******
*knock*
Lindsey opens the door.
"Why Lilah, it's good to see you. Come on in."
Lilah takes note of Lindsey's "happy" mood and walks into his apartment.
"So I see things are going well for you. I thought you were leaving town?"
"Here have a seat."
Lilah sits on the couch and Lindsey sits next to her.
"Okay, this is new," thinks Lilah.
"Look, Lindsey. I'm a very busy woman now and if you have anything to say or show me ... ?"
"Oh Lilah, such a trooper as you ever were. Okay, here it is. You remember the band Angel stole?"
"The Band of Blacknil?"
Lindsey nods. "Yeah, that one. Turns out Darla has it and she's the true wearer."
"What?"
"Yeah, exactly, which means ..."
"You have a plan to counteract this and you want me to help you?"
"Hey, like old times. It's good for you as well as for me. You get Angel out of your hair for good and I get Darla out of mine."
"So how exactly do we go about doing this, Lindsey?"
Lindsey stands up and faces Lilah.
"Where there's a will, there's always a loophole Lilah. Here's what we do. Angel and crew are in preparation as we speak to rescue Cordelia in some other dimension. She was mistakenly sucked through a portal. After the crew leaves to rescue her ..."
"... by way of Darla?" says Lilah.
"Right, by way of Darla, and when they plan to return we'll use this."
Lindsey holds up what looks to be some old writing.
"A spell? Typical."
"Yes, but not typical. This spell allows the ring to unattach itself from the true wearer. If we can do that while Darla and crew are trying to return, they'll be lost in time," Lindsey snaps his fingers, ".... forever."
Lilah lifts her eyebrow and takes a moment.
"Lindsey, have you lost your mind?"
"No, look Lilah, this will actually work and it's perfect!"
"They'll be lost in time forever? BUT what if they find out a way to come back? Or what if some of the crew actually make it back and find out a way for them to return?"
"I'm not worried about that. This is the way Lilah so are you in or out?"
"The truth? Out."
"What?"
"Lindsey, I don't want Angel lost in space. I want him dead. Gone," Lilah stands up and heads for the door.
"I'll find my own way." She leaves.
*******
Angel, Darla, Gunn, and Wesley stand in a circle formation. Of course everyone's eyes were on Darla.
No one said this was going to be this intense. Okay, I know what everyone looks like. Wesley handed me the scripture from this other world. Check. Close your eyes. Wait, one last look. Okay, ready.
"Are you okay?"
It's Angel.
"Um, yeah. Just trying to concentrate."
Imagine. Words on paper. In my right hand. Next to the ring. Imagine. Everyone with me? Everyone's with me. Gunn? Tall and bald. Heheheh. My face breaks out with a huge smile.
"Darla, is everything alright?," says Wesley also concerned.
"Uh, huh."
Wesley with his glasses, thin frame, and he's tall also. Angel. Oh, yeah, that one. Angel. Tall, dark like magic, handsome like Iremeber back when, stubborn as a goat, and selfish like ...
"Darla?"
It's Angel. Again.
"Hmmm, yes?"
"We're here."
I open my eyes and look all around me. I'm ... no ... we are both not bursting into flames this time. Angel in the light and I just stare at him.
"I took that away from you. Didn't I?"
He doesn't know what I'm talking about, but I do.
*******
Hyperion: Ah, you've come back. Knew you weren't finished.
*crack*
"Ah, there. You really should have a better lock on this door Angel," Lindsey says as he breaks into the Hyperion. "But it doesn't matter. When you come back ... well, you won't will you?"
Please e-mail the author of this story with your comments. simply_darla_angel@yahoo.com