Title: My Angel Unaware.

Author: Joylynn Wing

Archive: Yes, please...Everywhere especially ATXC and Gossamer.

Disclaimer: I do not own them, wish I did. C.C. and his merry bunch at 1013 always did. No infringement intended.

Rating:G

Classification: VA

Author's notes: After watching " Christmas Carol " and " Emily "for at least the one hundreth time, well pretty close, I came up with this Scully POV on her " Little Angel ". Be very aware, this is very emotional, so those of you with preexisting medical conditions make sure your rescue meds are ready. I needed my inhaler after writing this. Trust me I'm a nurse.

Summary: A mother's lament.

Dedication: To my OBSSEed bretheren, I only hope that I am worthy. My undying gratitude to my husband Alan, for the quick read through and to Mir Kat for, as always, giving great Beta.

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As I sit gazing out of my cold, empty home at the gently falling icy rain of December, I watch intently at Mother Earth's lament. As I watch her teardrops, reflecting the tears which also fall upon my face, I realize...

Emily... Yes, you Emily.

My little angel unaware.

My own diminutive miracle, that was never meant to be.

A bequest of God.

Yes, I do believe...

You taught me to love unconditionally, and taught me how to set my essence free, if only for one fleeting moment.

Yes, my little angel...

You were my sign of God's illimitable grace.

My redemption, as it were...

For a solitary woman's existence.

I saw eternity unfold for me, when I looked into your eyes.

A fleeting glance, perchance of heaven?

My living proof.

You were all I needed to believe.

Now my proof sits in my chest, a gaping hole which sucks the very life out of me. I hide behind my designer suits, forced smiles, and woeful heartfelt regrets.

For I will never know, my little angel unaware.

What it was like to really hold you...

You see, my love,

You were stolen from me.

Ripped from my very arms, more times than I even wish to recount.

A cruel irony.

They stole your prospect at life from my now unfruitful landscape.

You were taken from me again, when I felt your life slip away, like tiny angel's wings ascending to the celestial heavens, to finally find your soul’s repose.

And even in your death, they took you from me, not even allowing me some sense of peace. All that was left were the glowing golden grains of sand, like missing moments of time, which I now hold as precious, and my necklace, my symbol of faith returned.

For I will never have the memory of feeling life, your spirit, anew life with a soul as ancient as time, stir within the physical confines of my body.

I never felt the ecstasy of you, coming forth for the first moment into earthy form, experiencing the warm and forgiving light of day, basking in the shelter of my love.

I never got to feel you stir in my arms, or nurse from my breast, seeking life from life, as it has been since the beginning of time.

I have missed so much.

My little angel unaware.

And yet I feel so vacuous.

How can a love grow so strong, in such a little time.

For I really never knew you, yet you touched my soul beyond expression.

As I held you, in that sterile hospital room and you ebbed away, like so many grains of sand, upon a wave tossed shore, I imprinted indelibly every nuance that was you, my little angel unaware.

Your smell, like a warm summer's breeze, temperate and comforting.

The gentle caress of your sweet breath mingling with mine, as close to oneness with you that I will ever experience.

The touch of your silky soft skin against mine.

More precious than any of the finest silk.

Your warmth, which immersed my inimical, and desolate soul with light, as you slipped from your ephemeral existence.

Your innocence, which I so envy, I now cling to like a worn out old security blanket. You were unaware, my little angel, of your place in this world or mine.

That and only that truly set you free.

My soul and my very existence weep for you my love, my little angel unaware. You were the solitary child of an irreclaimable soul, which now has to go on in your shadow.

For in your life and death, I found redemption. I also found the capacity to continue this journey. The strength to face the caliginous evils which created a miracle such as you. I will find them, and they will pay.

A paltry token of justice, to say the least.

For until then, as I hear my phone ring, in the lonely, desolate, and frigid confines of my now lifeless home, I will continue to lament. I will continue to lament humbly and ignore the well-meaning pleas of others to share my pain, as the ultimate mother shed's her tears, this cold December night, upon the unwavering pavement below.

For only, me and Mother Earth's pain are the legitimate lament of your extinguished existence.

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