Title: Lied II
Summary: A different sort of post-episode thought piece. Takes place after All Souls and continues from part one of Lied. Very short!
I have lost my baby girl, I'm sure of it.
If I am to believe my own account of the events on this latest case, then I have lost her. Lost her to that terrible disease that threaten to take her life once before. I gave her up in the hope that she would be cured, that she would one day live a normal life, a long and happy life. Saddened with the knowledge that I would never see her, never hear her voice, again.
But I have seen her, and I have heard her voice call me "mommy." Or I have seen only what I can describe as her soul. I saw her pull away from my arms and walk into the light of the hereafter, the light of goodness and eternal life. I let her go. I didn't tighten my grip, or chase after her as I know believe I could have. I stood there and watched her walk away.
I have yet to hear of her death from the man and woman that took Emily after her "funeral." I am sure, however, that the news will be forthcoming soon. They promised to keep me informed on Emily's life. And her death.
I stare at the dark ceiling, my head on a pillow, wishing the skeptic in me, the skeptic that I have come to know as me, would come out from wherever it's hiding. What if I never saw Emily? What if it was all in my head? I try to coerce myself to think. My visions of Emily and of the Seraphim could have been my guilt for giving my daughter up, for choosing to remain in my life instead of going with her. My subconscious could be preparing me to deal with Emily's death should she die. Or it could be preparing me for my feelings if she lives. If she does live, I will have lost her just as if she died. Perhaps, I am finally ready to move on in my life. I can let Emily live her life and I can live my mine. Perhaps, she's not dead after all.
I cannot shake the feeling that that type of thinking is wrong, though. It wasn't my guilt or my subconscious that produced the visions of Emily. It was Emily. She came to let me know that her time and come and passed. She had come to comfort me, to tell me it was time to let go of the hope that she would be cured. If I am to be completely honest with myself, she came to tell me to let go of the hope that we would be reunited one day and be a family. My little girl, who despite all the motherly love I have towards her, never knew me as her mother until after her death. I must take comfort in the fact that she is up heaven with the mother that raised her, the mother that loved her, when I could not. And that someday, I too will be reunited with my daughter.
I wish I could talk to Mulder about this. I wish I could tell him everything I'm feeling, why these visions have upset me so much. I know he thought I had gotten over Emily's death, but if she didn't die when I let everyone believe she had, how could I have overcome it? Instead, I will let me believe that I took her death harder then either one of us had originally thought.
He wants to be there for me, but he doesn't know how. I don't know how to let him either. Our roles have been reversed. He is the skeptic on this case and I am the believer. Neither one of us knows how handle our new roles. We had both found comfort in them being the other way for so long that we have forgotten what's it like in someone else's shoes. Perhaps, though, if he knew the whole truth, the truth that I must never share with him, he would believe too. No, I know he would believe too.
My head is swimming now. I must push all of my thoughts to the back of my mind and lock them there. I need rest. Though I won't sleep, I need to a break from thinking. Confirmation of Emily's death will come soon enough. Then I will deal with all of these emotions. Then, I will grieve for her. Maybe I will even tell Mulder the truth about Emily.
I roll over on my side and listen to the silence. I try to push Emily's face out of my mind with little success, when I here a scratching sound from the front door. I grab my gun and cautiously approach the door. It is still locked from the inside, but I notice a small envelope on the floor. Reading the writing on the front addressed to Special Agent Dana Scully, my heart sinks. This is the confirmation I have been waiting for; I have been dreading for.
I take a deep breath and open the envelope, taking a piece of paper out.
Dear Agent Scully,
Despite your belief that you have witnessed a vision of Emily on your latest case, I must refute that finding. Emily is very much alive and she cured. Emily is not quite out of the woods yet, as we must watch closely for any signs of infection, but we are all confident she will make a fast recovery. Enclosed in this envelope are some recent pictures of Emily along with a drawing that she made for you. When she is a little older, we will tell her everything, including who her parents truly are. You may, however, take comfort in that fact that because of the photographic memory she inherited from her father, that she remembers you both.
I place my hand over my mouth and sink to the floor. The pictures show Emily happy and healthy. One includes a recent newspaper, I assume so that I know they are not fakes. My baby girl is alive. My visions were wrong.
My baby girl will live.
Let me know what you think. I get very nervous over the things that I write especially when no one gives me feedback!!!!! (Teahater@hotmail.com) The Emily storyline was one of my favorites and one my least favorites for I think obvious reasons. Every story that I write about the X-Files (which thus far isn't many) involves Emily somehow. I should say, it involves her still being alive. I was not satisfied with the way the storyline was dealt with on the show, which is why I continue to make up my own endings for it. Thanks again for reading this story. I hope you enjoyed it!