Make Me Empty, a degrassi fanfic

This is my first FanFiction, and it's a one-shot. All constructive critisism is welcome, so review. Oh, yeah. I don't own Degrassi: TNG, any of the characters in this story, or the Pepsi. And I didn't make a cent. Bwah-hah-ha.

She shook her head, and her eyes lit up. It was fake, but she didn't care.

"No, it's ok. I promise." And she smiled. He grinned and pulled her towards him. His kiss was rough, and then gentle. She sighed and sunk into his arms. He ran his hand through her hair. She shivered.

"Hey. You're sure?" He asked her gently.

"No, and I never will be. Are you ever sure?" and he nodded. She sighed. "No then. We'd better not." She stepped away from him, and grabbed her shirt. She slipped it over her head, and shook her hair out. Blonde sunlight sprayed across his vision, and he almost kissed her again.

She backed away from him, and looked him over. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she faced the door. She really hated herself sometimes. She could lie to him; she could get that emptiness. She could get it, and she needed it. He had to make her think about it first, though.

"Hey, Emma?" She turned to face him. "I'll… see you later, ok?"

She nodded, and walked slowly out of the door. One, two, three steps to the sidewalk... Four sidewalk squares to the street… Two blocks to the bus station…

And what did you do? You didn't fix a thing. You only broke it more. A friendship, a trust, an ideal, and you broke them all. Sometimes people's own thoughts are the cruelest.

Tears raced down her face, and she walked past the bus station. She glanced back and saw the bus leave, and then she broke into a run. Her flips flops slapped the pavement. The Thwack was satisfying. Her purse hit her backbone with small taps again and again. She could feel a bruise forming where her cell phone chipped against her. Her tears came harder, and she tripped over a seem in the concrete. She lay sprawled out in the grass of someone's front yard with bleeding knees and wrists, and she sobbed. She thought back to this morning and she then shuddered at what she had almost done. She thought back…

Emma woke up abruptly. She always did when the nightmares returned. That's just the way it was. Her eyes flew open, and sweat poured down her body. Her breath came in short gasps and she felt so cold. Her sheets were wrapped around her tightly, and she couldn't move her arms. She wanted to scream. She wanted to scream and hear Spike come rushing down the hallway; wanted Spike to tell her it would all be ok. She wanted it to be ok.

Instead she took three deep breaths, and she rotated back and forth until her sheet knots undid themselves. As the warm May air rushed across her shoulders, she began to breathe again. Deep breaths entered her lungs, and exited in a rush. Her heart rate slowed, and she let the images bombard her.

Rick's gun pointed at her head…

Sean's body blocking her from danger…

The gunshot…

The blood…

Her heart rate accelerated, but she put a hand over her chest and tried to breath. When she was breathing normally again she stepped out of her bed, and rushed into the bathroom. The warm water of her shower did nothing to keep the cold that was eating away at her at bay. She shivered and turned the water up so it scalded her. Still she felt no relief.

"Em? Emma, listen." Spike banged on the bathroom door and Emma turned the water off. "Em?"

"Y-Yeh." She choked out.

"Ok. Snake had that doctor's appointment today. I'm going to go with him, and I'll take Jack with me. So, I'm not going to make you baby-sit."

"Yeh, thanks mom."

"Well, can you do me a favor then? Will you run this cookbook over to the Jeremiah's? Joey wanted that recipe for a Pepsi Pot Roast. Anyway, just run that over there for me. Umm, we probably won't be back until later this afternoon. Why don't you go out and see a movie or something?"

"Yeh, sounds good mom." Snake shook her head, and looked exasperated.

"Ok, see you later." Emma listened as her mother's footsteps echoed down the hallway. She stepped out of the shower and quickly wrapped a towel around herself. The few moments to get down to her room took much too long. Her teeth were chattering before she reached her sanctuary. She threw her clothes on quickly and heard the car back out of the driveway. She collapsed on her bed and started to shake. It was too much. She couldn't deal with the shooting on its own, but the nightmares too? She couldn't relive it every night. It was killing her. It was changing her. She thought back to that night in the ravine. She thought about what she had done, but she centered on what she had felt. She had felt empty, completely empty. She hadn't felt a thing. Nothing bad, and nothing good. She wanted that feeling again. She really didn't want to feel this terror; blunt during the day, sharp at night. Never again. She was also scared of that emptiness, because to get it, she had to do something she hated herself for. Was it worth the trade off? The answer scared her.

She stood up and abruptly and raced down the stairs. She skidded into the kitchen, and grabbed her purse. She needed to get out. She needed to do something. She glanced at the counter and saw the cookbook. She picked it up and in one motion, slipped through the door and locked it behind her.

She ran to the bus station, and she waited impatiently the two minutes before it screeched into the depot. Two steps into the bus, one token into the coin collector, four seats down the isle… She sat down and breathed.

Five minutes later she was there. She hopped off the bus, and scrambled the length of the sidewalk to the Jeremiah residence. Three steps up, and she knocked. The first time it was much too soft; she didn't make a sound. The second time was much too loud; she could hear urgent footsteps rushing to see what the matter was. Her heat beat faster and she blushed. She was so nervous these days. She only needed to calm down, and it would be ok.

The door swung open to reveal Craig in loose pajama pants and no shirt. His eyes widened; he hadn't been expecting Emma. She opened her mouth to explain why she was there when a car backfired in the background.

The gunshot…

A small scream escaped her and the cookbook fell to the porch with a thud. Her eyes widened and she cringed. It wasn't a bullet; it was a crappy car. She took three quick breaths, and bent down to pick the cookbook up. Craig did too. His face was inches from hers, and the only thing she could think of was that bang, and the nightmare, and the fear that was pulsing through her more rapidly than air, and she reacted. She brought her lips to his, and she let her self go. She needed the emptiness that was entering her through their touch.

He broke it off and looked at her. She stood up and so did he. He looked confused, but she kissed him again, and his teenage boy won out. He led her into living room. His kisses flamed across her face, and thought became impossible. Her hands slipped into his hair, and her shirt cam off. She looked into his eyes. He looked at her with concern, and surprise.

She shook her head, and her eyes lit up. It was fake, but she didn't care.

"No, it's ok. I promise." And she smiled. He grinned and pulled her towards him. His kiss was rough, and then gentle. She sighed and sunk into his arms. He ran his hand through her hair. She shivered.

"Hey. You're sure?" He asked her gently.

She backed away from him, and looked him over. Tears welled up in her eyes. She really hated herself sometimes. She could lie to him; she could get that emptiness. She could get it, and she needed it. He had to make her think about it first.

She blinked three times. Third time always does it…funny. She looked up at him, eyes clear and innocent. "You're right. We shouldn't" She grabbed her purse from the chair next to the door. She stifled a gasp. She'd come so close to the edge this time.

"Hey, Emma?" She turned to face him. "I'll… see you later, ok?"