Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns all rights, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
Author's Notes: It's 2am. I wonder what my fics would be like if I wrote them when I could actually focus???
Author's Notes 2: Emancipate: to Free from Restraint. (The Macquarie Dictionary, Third Edition.)
Feedback: Please. Constructive Criticism greatly appreciated. By the Way: What the hell are flames? And please, don't demonstrate, cos from what I can gather, they ain't exactly pleasant.

A friend of mine died today.

Nothing new.

I paid my respects and I moved on.

But Riley....

He just couldn't understand the way I was reacting.

"Your friend died, Buffy. Your *friend*. How can you be so casual????" He asked me, a mix of worry and anger spreading over his features. He thought I was repressing....

"Practice." I replied evenly, lifting my eyes to make contact with his.

He just stared at me, unable to grasp the words to reply to me.

"People die every day in my life, Riley. Friends Die." I shook my head. "After a while, you feel thankful."

"Thankful?" He repeated incredulously.

I didn't reply for a moment, concentrating on straightening the thoughts running through my mind. Finally, I shrugged. "Thankful that it wasn't worse." I said softly. "Thankful that the body was recognizable. Thankful that they lived in the first place." I paused for a long moment before continuing in a whisper. "Thankful that it wasn't you that had to kill them this time...."

He seemed to consider that. "Has that happened to you before?" He asked, cocking his head to the side and studying me. "Have you had to kill people you care about?"

I looked away from his careful gaze, my mind fleeting to that day...that day with Acathla.

The day I 'killed' Angel. I hadn't known then that he would come back. I still don't really know *how* he came back.... Oh, sure, the First takes credit, but I don't really believe that it returned him.

I kinda like to think that I did. My love.....Or maybe Angel just felt that I needed him.

That's a comforting thought, too.

I pushed the thoughts of Angel away, and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand. "Yeah." I said. "A few friends who were turned, stuff like that."

"What aren't you telling me?" He asked, crouching in front of me. "What are you hiding?"

Something inside of me was laughing at him. *What *aren't* I hiding from you???*

I swallowed, my throat dry, suddenly my tongue felt too big for my mouth. I wanted to throw up.

That voice...

It was like having my own demon inside of me.

A dark side that seldom appeared. I suddenly had the urge to let it loose on the world. To be free, as Faith was.

But it was a fantasy. The real me - who resided at a point somewhere between the Bad Buffy and the Buffy Riley knew ( a good, wholesome girl who could kick demon butt but possessed no fire, no authenticity) - squirmed at the thought of hurting my friends, of hurting anybody.

I looked up at Riley. "Do you really wanna know???"

Do you want to know about the worlds inside of me??? Do you want to hear my tortured screams as I kill myself, slowly, but surely to fit the expectations of everyone around me? Do you want to see what you'll never touch?? The part of me that's off limits to you???

In my opinion, the best part of me. Angel's part. Always Angel's....

Riley nodded slowly. "I really, really, do."

I took a deep breath, and began my story.

"My name is Buffy Anne Summers, and I'm not me anymore..."

Send feedback to Starla

Back to the Fanfiction Archive