Title: The Champion
Author: Anna Otto
E-mail: anna_otto@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: all characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and
Fox. No copyright infringement intended, no monetary profit is made.

Rating: PG

Classification: VA

Spoilers: Christmas Carol/Emily

Summary: Is this the final blow to Scully?

Feedback: yes, please... 


I have lost.

When I look at what remains of the child who is a part of me, I know 
that this battle is over.

They shot. They scored. 

I am so tired of dealing with the nameless forces that try to blow my 
life into little pieces. I am a boxer in the ring that keeps waiting 
for the invisible punches, striking out blindly in return. Each one of 
their punches is a thousand of knives penetrating my skin, cutting 
through my vital organs, squeezing out the life force that I am not 
sure can sustain me much longer. This fight is unfair, but the judge 
has long since left the premises.

The last punch went straight through my heart.

This time, I have been defeated. On all counts.

As a doctor, I am grieved and humbled. I could never reconcile myself 
with seeing someone’s life cease, and I would literally move heaven and 
earth, destroy every obstacle if I knew that just one more try, one more 
second, one more push, and the sealed lips will part in a breath, and 
the tightly shut eyes will flutter open to see me. 

I wanted to be the prince that brings the kiss of life to sleeping
beauties. I have become an angel of never-ending rest. 

And the Snow-white will not wake up.

As an FBI agent, I am troubled and discouraged. Though this case was 
personal, I know that more was at stake than the life of my daughter 
and my own. I would have gladly given mine up to find the men who keep 
on taking future and hope from young women such as myself, women who are 
still to suffer at their hands. I would have cut out the eyes of these 
bastards so they could not see this world. Just as they have blinded me 
in my expectations of tomorrow. 

I wanted to be the knight in shining armor that slays the dragons and 
outmaneuvers the evil sorcerers to defend the weak. I have become an 
ineffectual pawn in the rigged chess game. 

The witch has not been punished.

As a mother, I am dead. My breath halted and my blood arrested its 
flow simultaneously with these of my daughter. I have been denied the 
fulfillment of carrying her inside me. I have never known the joy of 
watching her grow from a helpless infant into a tiny independent child 
with big blue eyes. I will never realize the happiness and pride of 
seeing her become a beautiful, intelligent young girl.

I wanted to be a normal woman that gives birth to healthy babies with 
skin of color peaches and cream. I have become a barren land that neither 
drenching rains nor warm sun will ever heal. 

There is no antidote for the poisoned apple. 

But they still have to defeat me as a human being. When I kneel before a 
shattered mirror, I can still see myself, and the pain reflected in every 
shard gives me the determination that I need. While my dreams have become 
a dark desert, I refuse to paint my reality in black colors. The dress I 
am wearing in mourning is a mere appearance for I should have worn red, 
the hue of life. Because I will clench my teeth and live through this 
punch. Because I will pull the knives out of my heart and suture the cuts. 
Because I will learn again the skill of inhalations and exhalations, the 
simple pattern of my existence. Because I will become proficient in my new 
life, armed with a familiar purpose. 

In the absence of a judge, I raise my right hand, victorious after this 
round. The quicksand will not swallow me because there are still things 
worth living and dying for. Because after this blow, I am immune to all 
that will follow. Because I am not looking for a fairy tale ending. 

I will never be conquered.

I have won.

END