"Angel, I can't have this baby."

I can't. We both know that, letting you out would be cruel and unfair. I wouldn't be able to protect you. For once you leave . . .

"What?" He jumps a little to catch up with me, confusion lacing his voice. What I wouldn't give to hear that voice everyday for eternity, so soothing, and soft, gentle.

I shake my head and keep walking "I can't let it out. I-I can't."

He has to understand.

I have to make him understand.

I know I'm selfish, I know wanting to keep you is inconsiderate but I can't bring myself to let you go. I can't bring myself to risk everything you've made me feel since you were conceived.

"Okay, not sure you have a lot of choice in the matter..." He trailed off.

And I know these voices in my,

Head are mine alone,

Please Angel! Please, my darling boy you have to try and understand me, I can't do this, I can't let our son go, because once I do . . . I whirl round to face him, bringing us both to a halt.

"Look, I know. It wants to come out. I can feel it. It's ready. It's just - I can't let it. I can't let because... because..."

I can't say it, how pathetic am I? I can't even bring myself to tell your father how much I love you, my baby. My human baby.

If I can't say it maybe he can.

If he can't understand what I'm feeling through words maybe, just maybe, he can look inside me with those hypnotising eyes of his.

He can strip me down like he does every time he looks at me and he can see me for real. What I'm feeling, the way I hurt, the way that I'm terrified yet basking in pure joy at the same time.

He looks at me and says quite simply, as if he's known all along "You love it."

God yes, I love you more than life itself, which considering it's coming from the mouth of a dead thing doesn't mean all that much but it's the meaning behind those words that counts.

I look up at him, and smile, letting loose a breath I hadn't realised I'd held. It's almost as if a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. "Completely. I love it completely" I turn my back on him and walk forward a few paces, I need space, besides, I can't look at him, I can't stand the look on his face. I feel so . . . complete, strangely. All encompassed. "I-I-I don't think I've ever loved anything as much as this life that's inside of me." My hands, once more find themselves caressing my stomach.

It's a miracle.

My sweet, darling child is in there.

My child.

My baby.

You.

My demon.

My parasite.

My drug.

My sickly sweet drug.

Addicted, totally, completely, addicted to you.

"Well - you've never loved anything, Darla." He says it so nervously as if he's almost afraid of my reaction, I don't blame him, I'm not the most even tempered person he'll have ever come across.

His words don't anger me for they are the truth, I've never loved anything, anyone.

As a human I was an unloved, penniless street whore. Then I was a vampire, they don't love, well there is the odd exception, Drusilla's 'pet' being one of them, but for the majority we don't love.

It's a human trait wearing you're heart on your sleeve, a weakness.

That's why humans are so weak, they open up, let themselves love and be loved in return and get their hearts trampled in the process, William being, once more, an example in that department.

"That's true" I look up a moment, and find myself nodding in agreement "Four hundred years and I never did - till now" I'm looking back down at you, staring so hard that it's almost as if I can see you. Your tiny body curled up inside mine, your even tinier thumb in your mouth as you sleep. You must be sleeping, there's no more contractions, no kicking. You have to be sleeping, I refuse to believe that little voice in the back of my head that's telling me something's wrong, that something terrible is wrong.

I turn to face him, looking him straight in the eye, his critical gaze flicking over my body. "I don't know what to do." I confess softly.

You have to understand what I mean by that, please, I don't know how else to tell you.

And I know I'll never change my ways,

If I don't give you up now,

He's silent.

Please Angel, please my darling boy, my sweet childe, tell me what to do, how to make everything all right again.

My vision is fading, everything's blurring together and the only thing that seems clear is the baby, the only thing my mind seems anywhere near capable of comprehending is that I'm pregnant. I need someone to tell what I have to do because I'm loosing it.

He stumbles over his words, something he rarely does. A solution, please have a solution, please just make everything okay again, make me understand what I have to do.

"Well, you-you'll do the only thing that you can do. - You'll have it"

This isn't a solution; you're dreaming my sweet.

This is reality, there is no happily ever afterin the real world, this is life, okay? I can't have this child, I can't care for it, love it. I can't even give it what it's supposed to have; a living, breathing mother.

He takes a tentative step towards me and I stiffen, I'm so scared, so, so scared, I just want it over. Just want it over.

"You'll have it and then..."

This isn't a fairytale Angel! I'm not one of your cases or your innocents. I'm real okay? And you can't fix everything, you can't fix me and hoping that somehow I'll still be able to love this baby after I've had it is just a fantasy.

"What? We'll raise it?" I snap, you're just making it harder now Angel, so much harder.

How am I supposed to accept the fact that I have a choice to make and not to long to do it if you won't even help me.

Get out of your dream world Angel, open your eyes.

I'm broken and you can't fix me, no matter how much you want to or I wish you could.

He frowns in confusion and steps forward, his hand outstretched. I dodge him, he's not going to touch you, not now.

You're mine, I'm not letting him anywhere near you, I'm not letting anyone touch you, I don't have much longer left with you, that much of which I'm certain.

"Why not?"

I push passed him and go back towards the stairs, gripping the bar tightly and looking down. "It's impossible."

"This whole thing is impossible, Darla, but it's happening." I hear him turn round and follow me 'til he's stood behind me,

I can feel a burning behind my eyes and a lump rising in my throat, "What do I have to offer a child?" I turn to face him, tears pricking painfully at my eyes and the lump getting harder and harder to talk around "A human child, besides ugly death?"

Angel make it all better, please Angel make it all better, fix me, stick me back together again, I'm falling to pieces before your very eyes and your just standing there, how loud do I have to scream before you realise I'm not untouchable? Before you'll make everything right? Take me into your fantasy, help me believe that there is some hope.

"Darla."

No! Angel don't! Don't make it hurt anymore that it already does, I need to hope, I need to trust you. I need you to fix me.

"You know it's true." Everything is so hard. Walking, talking.

I'm so damn tired, all I want to do is sleep but I can't because if I do, when I wake up you might not be there anymore, I have to stay awake to see you at least once before I kill you.

Angel, I'm begging you! You have to make things right! Take me out of this nightmare, take me somewhere where I know everything's gonna be okay. I trust you Angel, make it right.

"No. What I do know is that you love this baby, our baby. You've bonded with it. You've spent nine months carrying it, nourishing it..."

No! Stop it! Take me away, pretend I'm one of your innocents, just make it stop, make it all stop.

Let me sleep, let me just fall asleep knowing that when I wake up my baby won't be gone.

"No. No, I haven't been nourishing it. I haven't given this baby a thing. I'm dead. It's been nourishing me. These feelings that I'm having, they're not mine. They're coming from it."

How can humans handle it? The emotions that run through them? Feeling so many all at once? Love, fear, anger, pain, hatred, exhaustion? It's more agonising than any form of torture I've ever seen.

At least with hot pokers you know and they know it will end. There's a searing burn as it enters and your body instinctively tries to fend off the intrusion but then it stops, tiredness takes over the rest of your body but that just . . . it's numb, until it's taken out of course, but its like you can't feel it whilst its in there, it becomes the most comfortable part of your body.

Emotions . . . they burn your chest and explode in your head making you feel like your spinning. You can scream so loudly on the inside and no one will hear you. Emotional torture is the worst.

I can't think, I can't feel, I can't understand anything because your feelings, your soul is interrupting and it's driving me crazy.

I don't even know what I want any more.

"You don't know that." He says in earnest, glancing down at my abdomen again.

"Of course I do! We both do. Angel, I don't have a soul. It does. And right now that soul is inside of me, but soon, it won't be and then..."

And then . . . And then the consequences will be too hard to bear, I can't loose you baby, I can't forget how this feels, ever. If I do then I know I've lost you and I can't do that. Not now. Not how I know how it feels to love something this much. To love something to the point where everything else dims.

"Darla..."

I'm beginning to wonder whether or not he just says my name for the hell of it, he sure does say it a lot, especially without adding anything to it.

Take me away Angel. Take me into your dreams. Take me somewhere I won't loose my baby.

It's like I can't breathe,

It's like I can't see anything,

I look up at him, straight into his eyes, his face. He has to understand this time. He just has too.

"I won't be able to love it. I won't even be able to remember that I loved it" This hurts so much, I've never felt so strongly about anything, not the Master, not my vampire life, not Angelus, not any of my vampire family. Loosing Angelus to his soul was less painful than loving you. The tears that have been flooding my eyes fall, fast and heavy down my cheeks, the lump comes loose as I sob out "I want to remember."

The next thing I know his strong arms are encircling my now heaving shoulders; pulling me the short distance between us and wrapping his body round mine. I don't resist, I feel so safe in his arms, like he really can make everything all right again. Like he really can fix me.

I tuck my head under his chin, inhaling his own unique scent mixed with the leather of his jacket and . . . smoke? Like he's been near an explosion? I don't care, so long as he's here.

My sobs become harder and harder to harness so I just let go, completely let loose, crying softly into his broad chest.

Whilst one of his arms keeps me held securely to his chest, his free hand creeps up and cups the back of my head, petting my hair "Shh..." he whispers softly, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. This show of affection, however insignificant only makes me cry harder, the emotionally talons tearing ever harder at my chest. I shift my head slightly so it rest over the exact spot his un-beating heart is, his hand does not shift from it's position on the back of my head and I don't make any movement to insist he does.

We stand this way for a long time, a few moments after my crying subsides he releases me and holds me at arms length, his warm gaze fixed on me.

I pull away and turn my back to him, I can't stand his pitiful expression . . . the pure love that seems to radiate from his very being and hold me so tightly in a warm embrace that I almost believe that he's heard my silent pleas, and has taken me some where safe, somewhere where I can close my eyes without fear of loosing my precious little miracle.

It's kind of strange you know? I mean I know I'm not technically his Sire any more but it feels that way and I can tell he feels that way too. So by rights I should not be leaning on him, pleading for support, asking for help. A sire never asks the childe to help them, at least not in the way I'm asking him. A sire never, ever becomes almost fully dependable on their childe. Then again our little family was never one for the rules and lore of the vampire world, or indeed any world.

He doesn't say a word and I'm thankful. I need to figure out what I need to do, what to say, not that I've succeeded so far but the feeling of trying is a triumph in itself I guess.

I know when he next speaks the protective bubble that seemingly formed the moment he held me will shatter, and I will once more feel vulnerable.

Without turning round I say very quietly "You won't let me hurt it, will you? You'll protect it, right? From me, I mean."

An uncomfortable silence follows which is broken a moment later by Angel's cell phone ringing.

"Yeah . . . Is it safe? . . ." he hangs up and pockets the phone.

I'm about to ask him what's going on when a bolt of pain pierces through my lower abdomen, I double over and grasp a nearby post to steady myself. I can't suppress the pain filled moan that escapes.

"Hey - Darla? We should - get going. I feel a storm coming. You okay? Another contraction?" He puts a gentle hand on the base of my back as I straighten up. Regretfully that action causes another spasm of pain. I bite my lip to ignore it.

"No. It's something else."

This isn't happening.

The pain . . . it's worse than the contractions. This is like hot pokers are being pushed through my lower stomach, an ache fills my chest as I realise that the "poker" is hitting you as well.

"C'mon" Angel puts his arm round my waist and the other across my front, taking my hand "let's get you out of here"

I would normally protest at being treated like any invalid but-ahh . . . shit . . . no . . . no, please no . . . not now . . . please not now.

"Easy does it, there, now down the stairs" he half lifts me onto the staircase. I feel so . . . spent, all of a sudden . . . exhausted, like I haven't fed in days and slept in even longer.

Nothing but you,

I'm addicted to you,

The next thing I know I'm in his car, and he's driving as fast as he can go without breaking the speed limit. I don't know where we're going and I don't care.

I double over again, there's a tearing at my insides, like when I knife cuts through your skin, it slides through so easily, like its entering butter. I can feel . . . my insides . . . I think their bleeding . . . oh god, no baby, don't leave me, my sweet, darling little miracle, don't leave, please just . . . just hold on baby . . .

"You're okay" Angel's hand is on my back as I rest my forehead against the dashboard, "You're fine Darla, you're gonna be fine"

Not fine, never fine, I can't ever be fine. Not now, not ever, you've changed me boy, you're changed me in ways I didn't possibly imagine, I'm loving and it hurts and yet I don't care, not any more.

"We're here, come on let's get you inside"

The steady purr of the engine has stopped and I sit up, looking at him. We're parked in front of that club I came too last time I was here, when I was human . . . Caritas. . .

"What . . . what're we doing here?" I ask him, frowning slightly in confusion.

"Lorne and Wesley are putting up some spells, it's the safest place in town right now"

I nod, blinking as the rain drips from my hair and down my face.

The droplets cling to his hair, it stays spiked up 'coz it's not raining so hard yet, and they glisten as lightening forks overhead.

He opens his door and gets out. As he comes over to my side of the car to help me out I open the door and am about half way out before I cry out again, the pain . . . it's like being burned, a scorching, searing feeling . . . I can't be bleeding in there . . . I can't . . . you can't . . .

He puts his arms round me as we head towards the stairs down into the club, I'm leaning on him; he must be supporting over half my weight. Our weight, your weight, my weight . . . all the same . . . blood is blood . . .

"Just a few more steps. That's it. Okay. All right."

Wesley comes over to us as we make it to the bottom of the stairs, I can't really see him; my eyes are closing all on their own

"Guys. A chair. Chair."

Wesley jumps to it, hearing the instruction in his voice rather than the request. Angel continues to partly carry me over to the chair.

"Jeez, what happened?" Gunn queries as Angel helps me into the chair and releases me.

I suppress a shudder as a chill seems to breeze over me at the loss of contact, I need to feel someone there, someone other than me because if I don't how can I be sure it's not all a hallucination?

"Easy." Angel says.

It's like I can't think,

Without you interrupting me,

"Thanks." The word slips from my lips with surprising ease, I guess I've either gotten to the point where I don't have to pretend to act nice round Angel's pets or I'm finally just too tired to care anymore.

I think it's the latter. I ignore the shocked glances Fred and Cordelia are giving each other and I look up, and see Gunn looking from Angel to Wesley who jerks his head to one side slightly, indicating that he needed to talk to the ex-watcher in private

It seems that Cordelia has gotten over the initial shock of me thanking them and whispers quiet "You're welcome"

Fred follows her lead, I almost dread what she's going to say, that girl has the amazing ability to put her foot in her mouth every time she opens it "You gave us quite a scare. - But - I guess you're used to that, what with being a scary thing and all." There she goes again, rambling, stuttering over her words.

We all jump a little, as there's a loud rumble of thunder, look at me, scary master vampire scared of a little thunder.

I love thunderstorms, well listening to them anyhow; being out in them is not so fun. Thunderstorms . . . they make me feel so powerful, so strong, like nothing can touch me. Guess I was wrong about that too. I'm wrong about a lot of things I've come to notice. There's more to life than ruining it, there's more to unlife than killing and maiming and hunting, there's love, and there's pain. The kind of pain only love can bring.

Why do humans love just too get their hearts broken? That's a question that's lingered in my mind for a long time now. A very long time.

"Yeah. I'm sorry about that. I don't know what got into me." I'm apologising? To humans? Angel's humans? Angelus had a few humans once, they never lasted long, his pets they were, he'd torture them and play with them a bit, drinking just enough for them to being too loose consciousness before he'd play some more then when he got bored of hearing the same wails of agony over and over he'd drain them dry.

Something tells me that unless he achieves perfect happiness again that won't be happening to this lot any time soon.

That thought makes me laugh, the same body but a different person, a soul, something so simple as a soul can change everything, like a word, one word can destroy or delight someone.

They say laughter can be the greatest medicine, will it make you better? Make me better? If I laugh and keep laughing will it fix everything?

I can hear Wesley and Angel talking in hushed voices in the corner.

"She's in a lot of pain."

Not any more . . . not much pain . . .numb . . .slow . . .it's like dying all over again.

"How frequent are the contractions?"

Contractions? I'd forgotten about them . . .

"It's been... I don't know, maybe an hour?"

"An hour? She was well into the active stage of labour. I don't understand."

Active stage . . . if I was in the active stage of labour and the labour's stopped . . . that means . . . there's a complication? I can't miscarry, not now, it's too far along isn't it? Someone please tell me my baby is going to be okay!

"I don't either. She just - stopped having them."

"But the pain she's experiencing?"

"She says she's experiencing something else."

"That's worrying."

I barely hear Wesley reply as I double over again and moan in pain, Cordelia panics and calls for Angel.

Angel hurries over "Darla?"

My eyes search for his, I can smell blood, my blood! I'm bleeding, not just on the inside any more either! My baby, my sweet little miracle, my drug, my demon my son, my darling baby boy don't do this . . . stay, you can stay, you can stay, you can stay.

I grasp his arm tightly and whisper a desperate "Angel!"

"Let's get her into my bedroom. Come on." Lorne says helping me up, and practically carried to his bedroom by him and Angel.

"Easy. Easy now. Come on, sweetheart. We'll get you right in there."

Still with the pet names, but I'm past caring now, I'm bleeding, I'm loosing my baby, the one thing in life I've never wanted I now have and I wouldn't give him up for all the blood in the world, mine. You're mine baby, mine only. My precious bundle of a miracle.

They ease me so I'm lying down on his bed.

It's so soft, so welcoming, I'll close my eyes now . . .just for a second . . .just until they've finished . . .

I can sense that Angel's still stood in the doorway as Fred and Wesley continue their examination.

They're quick I'll give them that, quick and thorough not that I have the faintest idea what they're looking for, well besides your heartbeat but I can hear that, it's not like they have to check any of my vitals is it? They stopped working over four centuries ago.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Angel whispers as they go back over to him, concern and desperation is coming off of him in rays.

That's comforting in one sense and terrifying in another.

"She's tough as nails." Wesley says, get to the point watcher-boy! I know that tone of voice; I know the added smell to your scent. I know you're avoiding what he's really asking.

"And immortal, so that's, you know, in her favour - health wise." Fred adds onto what's already been said, masking the truth and hoping to deviate Angel from the real reason of his question.

But Angel won't be deviated, never, not once, not in all the time I've known him or all the time I saw him fighting in that bar the night I turned him. He stands his ground and is as stubborn as hell; he gets what he wants. Always.

His eyes narrow as he asks them more directly "What about the baby?"

Wesley glances at me and leaves the room, Angel follows.

I lift my head and watch them go then lie back down, closing my eyes again, staying completely silent.

I have to know what's wrong with you.

I have to know if I'm fighting hard enough.

"What? What is it?" Angel's voice is as loud as it would be if he were stood right next to me.

Wesley takes a deep breath "Angel, I think you need to prepare yourself for the worst."

"No." He replies resolutely.

"The babies heartbeat is faint. Very faint." He explains I can smell the fear? Coming off of him, fear and relief, it makes a strange taste in your mouth.

Fear is a very sweet taste, almost sickly and relief is heavy and yet light at the same time, very fresh.

"What do we do?" he says

"I'm not sure there is anything we can do. Darla's body - it's not a life-giving vessel. I don't know that it's equipped to do what it needs to do in order to bring a baby to term."

There's a pause before Angel replies, obviously trying to register what he's just been told. "So-so, what-what are you saying? We just let it die?"

"Ah, what about a c-section?" Cordelia queries.

In my thoughts,

In my dreams,

You've taken over me,

"Normally that's exactly what we'd do in this instance, but... the mystical forces that's been protecting the pregnancy..." Fred says, blatantly uncomfortable about being the bearer or bad news.

Thunder rolls across the sky as she trails off, leaving everyone to come to their own conclusions.

"...is gonna end up killing it." Angel finishes, dread smothering his voice to the point it sounded almost as if he's very far away.

"That's my fear." Wesley confirms it.

No more fears, I'm sick of fears, of feeling scared or unsure, of not knowing what's going to happen. As a vampire I'm used to being in control and in this, I'm anything but in control. Not of my body, or yours, of the way I feel or what I do, it's like I'm trapped inside a really bad soap opera, forced to watch until the long awaited end.

There's a quiet sigh from Angel before he speaks and when he does his voice sounds broken, like he's trying not to cry or show anything other than calm disregard for the situation. "This doesn't make any sense. I mean, this whole thing has been a miracle, right? You don't just get half a miracle, do you? - I mean, the powers - they brought her this far, they protected the baby all this time..." He's desperate.

Like me, I'm desperate, desperate for a way out, a way to know what I'm doing, what's gonna happen.

"We don't know that" Gunn says a little un-clearlyas he tries to put a brutally truthful statement out there without hurting anyone but knowing there is no other way to say it. "We don't know that it's the powers that's been protecting it. Angel, I'm sorry, but what if what Darla's carrying is the thing in the prophecies? That scourge of mankind that's supposed to plunge the world into ultimate darkness? What if - what if what's happening to Darla now what if that's the powers? Finally stepping up to the plate and doing something for once!"

If killing you is the Powers That Be doing what they think is right they can just fuck off, who is that gives them the power to decided who can live and who can die? Who gives them the right to torture me like this? To give me a miracle only to take it away again when I finally accept that it's really happening?

The Powers are obviously so far up themselves they don't care what it does to the people involved, so long as their precious innocents are saved? Do they really think that their champion will continue to fight for them if they kill his son? Well at least not their way.

You can't just kill a baby, not mine, not now.

I've killed plenty of babies before now, their blood sweet and pure, hot as it pulses from their tiny veins-

I think I'm going to be sick.

If that's even possible, can vampires be sick? I never have, I've never known one that has but that doesn't mean it's impossible.

"How? By killing my kid?"

There's a kind of stunned silence after that and after a few seconds Angel head's towards Lorne's bedroom.

I close my eyes, pretending to be a sleep, I don't know what he'd say if he knew that I heard everything they'd just said but I don't want too either.

I want to relax in the sense of security that comes when he's near, the sense of completeness. I've no doubt that those feelings are once more yours but I'm past caring. His scent is comforting, warm, spices.

Yes spices, like walking into a parlour, the herbs and the spices, musky like that. He used to have a touch of whiskey to him as well but that's worn off over the years, the underlying scent is still there but not as strong.

He sits in the chair by the bed and I open my eyes and look at him, I don't speak and for a split second neither does he.

"Hi. How 're you doing?" he asks softly.

"He finally stopped kicking." I reply.

It's true, you have, my insides, my long dead insides are no longer being beaten by your incessant tossing and turning.

"Did he?" He leans forward and lays a tentative hand on my stomach. I don't stop him and his touch relaxes, melting against me. Despite him being dead too his touch feels warm, like sparks where our bodies meet, fires igniting in long since unresponsive skin.

It's like I'm not me,

It's like I'm not me,

"I guess he figured he finally got your attention" he says and I can't help but smile "You called him a 'he." He smiles back at me, before my smile slides from my face, he knows, he knows that I love you, he knows that I can't help it. Before I would have given anything for him to realise that but now it makes me feel naked and vulnerable, no protection, no guard. "I think that's the first time you've ever done that."

He's avoiding the crux of this whole thing, and I need to know. I need to know the truth straight from the horse's mouth so to speak. "He's dying" His smile melts away but still he doesn't look away, stripping me down with those soulful eyes. "Isn't he?"

Angel waits a moment, looking at the raw need that must be evident if not in my voice then in my eyes then answers quickly and shortly "No."

I give him a disproving look "You lied much better when you didn't have a soul" I shift slightly under his unfaltering gaze "I can feel the life slipping away from me."

He speaks with more force this time "Then don't let it. You have to fight for this. - Please." He's begging me, oh god he's pleading with me, it's been so long since he's done that, so long. I wish I could comply, I wish I could give him what he wants but we both know I can't, I don't have the energy, I'm worn out, and I'm cold, and I just want it over.

It's strange isn't it? That hell is considering warm, why is that? Warmth is life, it's hope, it's security, it's being something other than dead. It's everything I'm not.

"I don't know how. My boy." I look down at my stomach and run my hand across it, you're in there. I still can't get my head round it, your in there, you're alive, and your mine.

Mine.

My own.

My child.

My baby.

My miracle.

My demon, drug, parasite.

My heaven, my hell.

My world.

" My darling boy" I move so I'm lying flat on my back and raise a hand to my forehead, brushing my hair from my eyes.

My hair is blonde.

It used to be so long and golden. Angelus always said I had beautiful hair. I would sit at my dresser and he would comb it for me every morning, the one act I let him do for me without command, and without vicious and hurried strokes. It was almost intimate, naturally it usually ended up even more so, well it wasn't always "intimate" usually a quick release for the both of us after night of hunting and killing and teaching Dru or William but before hand it was always intimate.

Now it's straggly and in desperate need of being combed or washed. A shower, or a bath . . . that sounds perfect . . .

"I told you I had nothing to offer this kid. Some mother" I look at him a moment, hot tears are stinging my eyes, I just want to let go but I can't because if I do I don't think I have the strength to pick up the pieces any more. "Can't even offer it life."

I can't, you're dying and I'm powerless to stop it. For the first time in four hundred years I feel old. So very old.

I'm hooked on you,

I need a fix,

I can't take it,

Angel swallows nervously, unsure of how to answer me. Good. I don't need him to answer, I don't need him to tell me how everything's gonna be fine, and how I'm gonna be a great mother, because I'm not. You're gonna die and I'm gonna go back to the way I was. Without you, or Angel, or his pets, without any of that. Without love and fear and pain. I can be the way I'm supposed to.

I jump so much I nearly fall off the bed when there's a loud bang from the main part of the club, Angel catches me.

I shudder, his touch sending electric sparks through my body. He feels warm. How can he feel warm? He's dead. Unless I'm cold, colder than I should be and if that's the case you don't stand a chance.

He stands me up but keeps his arms round me, I lean on him heavily. My body doesn't even have the strength to hold itself up any more.

I feel like I'm dying all over again.

It's not a nice feeling.

Not like the twice before, it's not like I'm slipping into oblivion or somewhere warm and protected, somewhere where I'm powerful, like I'm tucked into a tight embrace.

It's like I'm tied up and being pulled down, down, where fires blaze and chains are the only arms that hold you. Where blood flows like rivers from your own skin, where you're tortured and beaten so many times over you can't possibly feel anything other than pain. Where you are so far broken there's no where in your body or mind you can take refuge, where you can hide and hope it's all some horrific nightmare.

I maybe a vampire but I far from welcome hell.

"What's going on?" Angel asks as the gang rush in, panic coming of them in nauseating waves.

The smoke billows in after them, burning my nostrils with its acrid scent.

"We're being attacked." Wesley replies, looking round for some way out but finding none.

Angel shifts his hold on me but doesn't let me go, although I would never admit to it out loud I'm pressing my body as close as I can to him, trying to find some form of solace in his arms. Trying to make myself feel more alive than I do now.

You never feel more alive than you do when you're dead. When you're dead, when you're a vampire you have the world at your fingertips and no one can stop you, you're strong, you're fast, and you're everything you weren't when you were human.

"Attacked? I thought you had double protection sanctorium spells?" Angel exclaims looking accusingly at Lorne.

Lorne rolls his eyes and waves his arms round, gesturing wildly in what I'm guessing is some way to help him explain "I do. It's a thing with the door and the stairs and the world and the thing. Never mind!"

Gunn looks at him a moment and gives a rather strange look before turning back to Angel and I "Apparently you can be outside and shove stuff in."

Lorne frowns at him "I just said that." He says, eyeing Gunn irratatedly.

I scream and hide my face in Angel's shirt, gripping his arms tightly as a burning beam falls from the ceiling, narrowly missing us, he shields me with his body for a second before releasing me and sitting me down on the nightstand.

"It's Holtz." He whispers, looking up at where the beam fell.

"What?" I reply.

Holtz? How's he here? He should be dead, long dead, if vampires didn't eventually get him then old age would have, there's no way that man should still be alive.

I try and see if I can smell him but all I can smell is the fumes from whatever was thrown in and Angel.

The smell of the fumes is making my eyes water so I try and concentrate on the smell of your father.

If Holtz is here . . .

"Come on. We've got to move the bed." Lorne rushes over to the bed and tries to pull it away from the wall, seeing he's struggling Gunn, Fred and Cordelia go and help him.

I look up, straight into Angel's eyes "How's it possible?"

Angel answers although he seems a little distracted mind you I don't think I appear to be altogether there. "He's here. I would have mentioned it before, but I didn't think it was the right time."

I sink further onto the nightstand, my legs no longer capable of holding me up right, I look away from him again, at the floor "No. No, it's the perfect time." I say, my voice is distant, like it's coming from far away, not from my own mouth.

Your heartbeat is barely there any more, it's like it's with my voice, far, far away where I can't reach it.

Hmm . . . I remember my heartbeat, Wolfram and Hart brought me back as human . . . when I was in that apartment. I would sit for hours in front of the mirror on the dresser, feeling my heartbeat in my chest, a soft patter against my ribs as I watched my reflection, looking at what I'd become over the past four hundred years.

You can't hear it when your human the first time, you never pay attention to it. No matter how hard you try you can't hear your heartbeat. Can't feel the blood pulsing through you veins, it's only after you've been dead that you know the difference, that you know what it's like not to have a pulse, a heartbeat, a temperature, blood pulsing rather than trickling through your veins.

That's something that's always fascinated me, how can our blood move when there's nothing to pump it? Our hearts don't beat, our other organs stopped working even before our hearts did so how does it move? It moves slower than a humans but faster than if it were just running in the general direction of the angle at which the body is at.

Blood, our blessing and our curse.

If Holtz is here is he dead? Does his blood run cold in his veins like mine does . . . oh god . . . blood . . . his family, his wife, his daughter . . . his son . . .

Just one more hit,

I promise I can deal with it,

"What we did to him." I look up at Angel again.

"I know." He replies soberly.

I don't want to, I can see their faces in his eyes, the way the little girl invited us so willingly into her home, trusting us, innocent, naïve . . .

My throat constricts as I try and inhale unneeded and intoxicated air, I need to breathe, one last time I need to know what it feels like to have the precious oxygen fill my body.

I want to throw up, I really do. I can taste her blood in my mouth; it tastes like ashes one moment and metallic the next, like a penny.

It feels like a china cup does, hot as it's full of coffee.

Thick and sticky, filling my head, my throat, my nose, blocking me up, stopping me from thinking straight, from doing anything other than choking.

Their using ornaments now to try and break through the dock door but I'm not listening to what he's saying.

"That's why this is happening. His family, his children... - what that must have been like for him. Doesn't seem so funny now, does it?"

Not funny any more.

Nothing's funny any more.

I remember, after I turned the girl I went through to the nursery, where Angelus had gone to find Holtz' son.

He held up the drained baby, its head at an odd angle.

'Well hello me darlin'' Angelus had whispered, his Irish brogue thick and sending warm shivers through me, always did, even sitting in front of the fire never made me as warm as the sound of his voice did. 'I snapped the lil' un's neck, made quite the crack it did, like breakin' tha' branch off a yew tree.

I'd laughed at his glee and he'd joined in, laying the infant down he'd rushed forward, seizing me round the waist and took my mouth in a bruising kiss. He'd pulled away and set me back on my feet, almost like he'd momentarily forgotten his place but I didn't care.

We'd pulled it off, we'd made a blow to Holtz and it had been so easy, convincing the girl we were friends of her father's, going in, Angelus practically seducing Holtz' wife before he drained the woman and the girl . . .

"Darla?" Angel coaxed, I have a feeling he knows what I was thinking about as I blink at him dazedly, I can barely see him any more, everything's spinning and blurry round the edges.

"Angel, we could use some vampire strength here." Wesley calls out as the fire begins to spread.

Angel looks reluctant to leave my side, but knows that unless he helps we'll be dust before Holtz even gets downstairs. "Cordy, Fred!" He yells, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze as he gets up and they take his place.

'You okay?' Fred asks quietly, smiling softly at me.

I blink at her and nod, swallowing nervously.

I can hear their blood pulsing through their veins, I want to bite them so badly, so much it hurts but the very thought makes my stomach clench in protest.

I look over to where Angel steps between Wesley and Gunn who in turn step away, they watch him in amazement and horror as he punches at the wall with is bare fists, kicking it down with as much force.

I can't suppress the swell of pride that fills my chest at that point, my boy, I taught him well, my boy, my darling boy.

It's barely thirty seconds before he's through, even less than that as he makes a hole big enough to walk through.

Cordelia jumps to her feet, I think she caught me looking at her neck, not that I care, hello, vampire here! And hurries through the hole, the others follow quickly, Lorne picking up a piece of cardboard and putting it over his head in an attempt to keep out the hammering rain.

Angel half carries me through, I bite back a cry of pain as we get into the street, searing pains flying through my abdomen, my legs. Oh god this hurts. Just go Angel, just go, it's useless now, I'm not worth it.

I made you what you are, I made you a killer, I deserve to die at Holtz' hand. It might make some of the thirst for vengeance go away for him.

We took everything from him, everything, his wife, his daughter, his son. His whole life, we tore into it with our presence and we ripped it to shreds, laughing the whole time. Enjoying every second, every tear he shed over their bodies, every stabbing pain that went through his heart as he had to kill his own daughter, as she begged him to let her live.

When I left Angelus in that barn, we met again in Vienna, destroyed entire villages there. Purely to celebrate our escape from Holtz, no matter how temporary.

"No. No. Go on. I can't. It doesn't matter anyway." I wish my voice were louder. I wish I didn't sound so weak. I went out strong last time. I want to do that again. I don't want to become and shivering, sobbing puddle of a once great vampiress in the middle of a dark alley on a stormy LA night.

Angel gives me a little shake "I'm not leaving you, alright? Easy. Alright" IF only it were easy my boy, if only everything were easy, if only I couldn't feel our son dying inside me, the only one capable of helping it, the only one in contact with it, dying herself, ready to give up. He digs through his pocket, pulls out his car keys and throws it to no one in particular "go get my car. It's out front." He's not looking at them, his eyes boring into mine as he lowers me to the ground.

I'm already soaked through; the raindrops like daggers piercing my flesh, so it doesn't make much difference that I'm lying in a puddle.

The pull towards hell, towards stopping fighting is getting stronger. The only reason I'm not giving up is because of you, I don't want to kill you, contrary to what I should want, I want you to live, to grow, to be happy.

He kneels next to me "I got you." He whispers to me, as Cordelia makes a move to join us. Well him, I can't see her wanting to stay with me, I tried to kill her after all.

Another wave of guilt, I'm drowning in it. I just want it to stop no, need it to stop, I'm drowning in guilt and in sorrow, fear and pain, love. Blood. I'm drowning in blood, my blood, your blood, his blood, her blood, every body's blood. Just make it go away!

"Go!" Angel snaps, she does thankfully, raw emotion evident in his voice, the kind of emotion I've never felt from him, they must be able to feel it too as they all abruptly hurry away.

I'll handle it, quit it,

Just one more time, then that's it,

Fred takes a few steps before she turns back and crouches by my head, Angel tears his eyes away from me and looks at her desperately, I can't see his face but the desperation, it's the one thing that I can hold on to. The one thing that's keeping me afloat in a sea of blood. Blood that I spilt.

"Fred, go with them." He says.

I'm actually surprised when she refuses him. She doesn't seem the type to deny a direct order. Even I would struggle to argue with his tone of voice at that point. I may no longer be his Sire, even if I was once upon a time, but my blood ran through him, which in turn ran through Drusilla and then finally me. It's a never-ending circle that I can't escape that I can't deny. That none of us can deny, not me, Angel, Penn, William, Drusilla or any of her pets that she turned but did it so badly that they didn't even manage to rise. Even if they did they struggled to survive and ended up either walking straight into the sun or Angelus or I had to stake them to put them out of their misery and, get rid of a liability to our family.

I'm actually surprised that William, or Spike as he's known now, has made it this far, he's still alive, after a hundred and twenty years or so of Drusilla he's alive, if he wasn't I'd feel it. Sure the twenty or so years he spent being taught by Angelus because Dru begged for days that her new toy was "shown the ropes" may have helped but even I had to leave Dru eventually, she would have driven me as insane as her had I not taken a stroll in the morning sun first.

Yes, she managed to make me, but that's after nearly two hundred years of practice and tuition first from me and Angelus then I'm sure Spike would have told her a few times how to do it when she asked, over and over again. That was the one thing we could never get into her head, everything else like don't go out in sunlight, don't touch crosses, don't go near holy water and make sure you don't get staked, the basics that was all easy compared to nearly everything else.

She nearly drove me mad, she was a mess. A childe that should never have been.

I called her a mistake. He called her a masterpiece.

"It's okay. They'll come back for us." Fred replies.

Angel senses the stubborn tone to her voice and releases my hand long enough for him to pull off his duster and throw it round her shoulders

"You're gonna be okay." He says as he takes my hand again

"No. No, I don't think so. Once he's gone, I won't be okay. I won't be okay at all. - I don't know what I'll be. - Angel... Our baby is gonna die right here in this alley. - You died in an alley remember?" I'm trailing off, half finishing sentences before I start another.

"I remember." He says as though he doesn't want to remember I don't, I don't want to remember.

I can taste the blood again, his blood, the only blood that doesn't taste like ashes as I remember it, like ambrosia, chocolate, peppermint, sweet and smooth, filling me with it's luxurious heat, filling my veins, my body, my unbeating heart with his pure love of life.

"I wanna say I'm sorry. I wanna say it and mean it, but - I can't. - Aren't you gonna tell me it's okay?" I want to be sorry, but no matter how many times I remember killing him, ending his life, for killing all the people I did before him, after him, with him, without him, all the people he killed, that Dru killed, Penn killed, that Spike killed I can't help but revel in it, I can't help but feel some sense of joy, of glee and that sickens me more than Angelus' soul. I started that line. I started a new line; I left my own sire's side so I could start my own line, my own family. I'm responsible for every single person killed by my childe, my grandchilder and my great grandchilder in the past four centuries. That's a lot of people, we killed about . . . two people a night each, it depends how big the person was, if they were adult or children, how healthy they were excetera. Sometimes Angelus would capture a few for games and William would torture a fair few with that infamous rail road spike of his and both of them had a habit of keeping people alive for days as they tortured them. Angelus' captives usually lived longer as William was easily bored, getting tired of the same screams in less than a day or so, so all in all that's a minimum of eight a night, that's when Penn wasn't with us and when we weren't having a massacre. That's enough to stop us from going hungry.

"No." He says stoically, glancing down at my stomach then back at my face.

"No? It's really not, is it? We did so many terrible things together. So much destruction, so much - pain. - We can't make up for any of it. You know that, don't you?" I know, no matter what happens, if I live or die I can't make up for it. Nor can he.

Not on his precious path to redemption and atonement, we can't make it right. No matter how many he saves that won't out number the amount he killed. For when he killed, not only did he kill the victim but their families also, even if not by our hand but purely through taking someone they loved away, a son, a daughter, a mother, a father, brother sister, as long as they were loved and were needed we killed who ever knew them.

And even if we both survive this, I won't be good, Dru's just a lunatic through and through, she wouldn't know how to save someone if it was explained to her a thousand times over and Spike enjoys the kill too much.

We're vampires, we don't find the lost, help the helpless, save the endangered, we kill and we hunt and we hurt. We don't know how to do anything else and I can't see souls being for sale down in the market. And the Romanies will attach some sort of curse to any souls we did get. Not that I'm suggesting any of us want a soul, I mean if for every century worth of killing you do you spend ninety years in the sewers eating rats. That would be Dru out of commission for about hundred and eighty years, Spike out for about ninety yeah, and me for . . . three hundred and sixty. Pointless exercise really and now I'm confusing the hell out of myself, most likely repeating what I've already said and thinking up the impossible. I'm begging to think Dru's insane ramblings have rubbed off on me.

"Yeah." He says after a moment.

If he knows why does he do it? Why does he try? Why try when you know it's fruitless? When you know it'll never make it better. When it can never fix anything.

"This child - Angel, it's the one good thing we ever did together."

I know what I have to do know. I know. It hurts but I know.

Just a little bit more to get me through this,

Angel lifts my hand and presses his icy cold lips to it. Sending electric jolts through me once more.

"The only good thing."

A light in a forever dark world, that's what you are baby, a candle in the cave, a rose amongst the ivy. A living soul amongst the dead demons that spawned you.

Angel buries his face in his hands; my hand still clutched between them, I can feel his unneeded breath tickling my fingers.

"You make sure to tell him that." The words sting my lips as they leave them, my tongue heavy with the feel of them.

This is it, this is the end. This time I'm not coming back.

I may not be worth saving, but you baby, you are.

I reach out for one of the splinters of wood that littered the alleyway when he punched his way out of Lorne's bedroom.

I concentrate on hearing your heart beat, on letting everything that you are fill me, control me, take me over as I tell you that despite everything you've put me through I love you. Despite everything, the hunger, the pain, the torment, the fear, the unwanted emotions, I love you, with all my heart, like I've never loved anything ever before. I love you baby, don't ever forget that.

And before anyone can stop me, with the rain beating down on the concrete, my body seemingly melting to be one with yours, and my hand clutched tightly in that of my childes.

I plunge the wood through my chest.

It's over.

Right well that's it guys, thanks to everyone who's reviewed, I have really enjoyed writing this, even if I did scare myself at times, channelling Darla is overpowering to say the least, and I have loved every second of it! I hope you enjoyed reading it as well and please review again!