A/N: I know this took a long time to come out but I hope you enjoy.

I don't not own Buffy of any thing else in this story

Chapter 8: Who am I

Fred stood by one of the windows in the small apartment she had been given and stared out into the Cleveland night. Who was she, what was her purpose in life, at one point she was sure of herself, she was Illyria and she was feared. But now she didn't feel much like being feared now she just wanted to be left alone. Fred walked into her bath room and placed her hands on the sink to support her weight. She was exhausted; she had never been exhausted before. She had gone toe to toe with demons twice her size and walked away barely winded. So why was she so tired? She looked at her self in the mirror above the sink. Looking back at her was a mess of pale flesh and blue bulging veins. Hate suddenly overcame her.

"Ahhh, that's not my face." Fred lifted up her hands and smashed them straight through the glass. "That's not… that's not who I am." Fred slumped to the floor and clutched her bleeding fists. She was alone and confused. The face in the mirror did not belong to her and yet she could not remember what her face was supposed to look like.

"I'm not Fred… I'm not Fred…" she repeated over and over until she fell to sleep.

When she had finally woken up it took a few seconds for her to remember why she was laying in her bathroom floor. Looking down at her hands she realized that there was still glass embedded in them. Carefully she pulled the glass out and cleaned up the blood on her hands and the floor. Not long ago her hands would have healed almost instantaneously. Now she feared it would take days for her hands to heal properly.

She was confused nothing seemed right. She had clear memories of everything she had ever done as Illyria yet she could also remember everything Fred had ever done everyone she had ever known and every emotion she had ever experienced. The sensation was frightening. She all of a sudden wanted nothing more than to find angel and confide everything to him. Angel, the mere thought of him made her woozy. These could not be her feelings her desires and yet she genuinely felt them.

Not knowing what else to do she got up of the floor and left her apartment. Making her way down the hall she ran into numerous slayers all of which gave her strange looks at her blood stained clothing. She did not care what they thought of her all that mattered was that she got answers.

Reaching the other side of the floor that her apartment was located on she stood before large oak doors. With out any care she shoved them open and walked into what had once been Giles's office. The room now served as an office for James Davies. She liked him she wasn't sure why exactly but he made her comfortable.

When she walked in James was sitting behind his desk addressing Xander and Willow. Both of the Scooby's gave her a perplexed look and stared back at James.

"You can both leave now. I will get back to you later." James said as Willow and Xander left the room. Once they had gone he focused all of his attention to Fred. "How are you this morning?" James casually remarked. He had a feeling that no one had ever treated her as a simple girl before. When she did not respond he continued. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Yes." She wasn't sure what to say. She knew why she was there but she had been expecting to start the conversation. "What do you want?"

"Angel and I were wondering if you would like to work with the girls." James offer sounded appealing to her but what on earth could she do.

"What exactly do you want me to do?" She decided that her own problems could wait. "I don't exactly have any experience doing anything."

"That's where your wrong young lady." James got up from his desk and lifted a folder handing it to the woman. "This has a photo of someone you might recognize."

Opening the folder she immediately knew who it was. "Mama…Papa…"

As soon as she had said it she regretted it. She had an enormous amount of caring and affection towards these people but they weren't really her parents.

"I have been in contact with them off and on. They seem to have this crazy idea that their daughter isn't really dead." Illyria shot up her eyes and peered directly into his.

"Fred is gone. I am Illyria." She threw down the photo and turned to leave.

Before she could open the door James placed his hand on her shoulder. On any other day she would have crushed him. She was tiered and her hands were still sore.

"Please don't go. I apologize for showing you that picture." As Fred turned around James could see the pain in her eyes. "I only wanted to help."

"I know. I just wish people would accept the fact the Fred is gone." Walking over to the desk she bent down and picked the photo back up. "You know, I have clear memories of them. I care for them. I can almost smell my mothers cooking. But they aren't my parents I don't have the right to care about them or to even know their names. Why do I know who they are? Why do I have to live every day with the pain of having her memories? Is this some sort of punishment from god? Is my hell and eternal suffering to live with an intimate knowledge of the woman whose life I ruined?" She sat down in one of his chairs and wept.

Walking over to her he crouched down and placed a hand on her arm. "Don't worry everything is going to be ok. You are a human being now and I know that this is going to be hard for you to accept but you have to keep on living life. I want you to take the rest of the day and in the morning I am going to have Buffy introduce you to some of her girls. More than anything on heaven and earth you need to spend some time just being a girl."