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Title: Unforgiven

Author: JuSt AnOtHeR DeMoNiC EgO

Summary: A song fic I wrote about Lita and her dad.

Rating: PG – It might make people hate their daddies.

Distributing: Ask first. I'll most likely say yeah.

Disclaimer: I dunno if Amy really hates her dad… sorry.

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Amy stood in the middle of the ring, a feeling of accomplishment totally overwhelming her.

The show had been over for almost an hour now, but still, she couldn't get enough. She loved the red ropes… the seats around her. Hell, the apron was cool, too. And she was finally here. It was a long hard road, but she made it. She was finally with the WWE.

She looked at the title that she held in her hands. The Women's Championship belt. It still had Molly Holly's name on it, but it felt 100% hers. She earned this. All the hard work, all the pain, all the joy… everything was in this belt. Everything… except for her dad.

Her mom had been there earlier that night, smiling and cheering her daughter on. Her mom was even more excited about the belt than Amy. It was always great having her mom around, but she wished her dad could be there, too.

Even when she was little, he made no effort to come see her.

-*-

"Mommy! Mommy! Did you see me? Did you see me swim?" Amy ran to the bleachers with her swimming trophy in her hand, her goggles still over her hazel eyes.

"Yes, baby, I saw you! You were wonderful!" Amy's mom pulled her into a big bear hug; not caring that her daughter was dripping wet.

"I did the butterfly and the backstroke and the… hey… where's daddy?" The seven-year-old scanned the bleachers with a small frown on her face.

"Oh…" Mrs. Dumas forced a smile. "Daddy couldn't make it today. But I got the whole thing on tape! We can show it to Maga and Billy and –"

"NO! He's never here! He hates me!" Amy ran from her mother, slipping on a pool of water. She cracked her head on the marble…

-*-

Amy touched the back of her head where the scar was. She had to get seventeen stitches. She remembered that day like it happened last week.

It wasn't like her dad didn't know about these things. Amy had called her father long before the match was scheduled, hoping he would show up this time. He promised he would, and so did her brother, Billy. When it was ShowTime, and her music pumped through the arena, she excitedly ran down the ramp, looking right at her mother. Her mom was smiling and holding a sign that said 'Lita'. Her brother was there too, screaming and carrying on as if he'd never seen his sister wrestle before. Amy was so glad they were there. She looked at the seat next to Billy, expecting to see her father, but it was empty.

All the adrenaline… all the happiness, all the excitement in her was instantly gone and she suddenly felt nauseous. She wanted to run back up the ramp and pack her things. She didn't want to wrestle anymore. She felt like crying.

But she had a match to win. So what if her dad wasn't there? Wrestling was her passion and she wasn't going to let him get in the way of that. After all, she had her mother there… and Billy's excitement was more than enough.

So why did she feel this way?

Amy snapped back into it when she heard the King talk about her 'puppies'. She smiled and slid into the ring.

Amy, still standing in the ring, replayed the match over and over in her head. Every time Molly tried to pin her, Amy would look to see if her dad was there yet. He never was. When she finally won and her music filled the arena again, she held that belt as high as she could. Not only for emphasizing her victory, but for showing her dad that she didn't need him to accomplish things. She was a strong woman and she could do just fine without him.

Amy's feeling of accomplishment was soon drowned out with sorrow… and the sorrow was drowned out with resent… and the resent drowned out with… bitterness. She now felt bitter towards her dad.

Though she wasn't saying anything, the expression on her face was enough to tell him what she was thinking about.

"Amy…"

Amy snapped out of it. She looked at her father standing there in the empty arena. He looked up at her.

"I spoke to your mother. Congratulations."

"Thank you." She replied with no emotion.

"Look, hon., I'm sorry I couldn't make it."

Amy shrugged. She slid out of the ring and stood face-to-face with the man who dared to call himself a father. "It doesn't matter." She spat coldly. "Not to you anyway."

Her father shook his head, looking down at the floor and then back up to see his furious daughter. "I really am sorry, Amy."

Amy nodded. "You are sorry. A sorry excuse for a father." She pushed past him and headed up the ramp. She turned to look at him one more time. "And by the way," she took a deep breath, "you're unforgiven."

*END*

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"Unforgiven"

By: Fefe Dobson

Daddy, daddy

Why you break your promises to me?

Daddy, daddy

Don't you know you hurt me constantly?

And there's something that I think that you should know

I'm not the little girl you left waiting at home

All the hurt and pain you left with mom and me

Why can't I be angry?

I hope you're somewhere out there listening to this song

I hope you're thinking what you did – you did was wrong

Well, let me make it crystal clear for you to see

It's too late for "I'm sorry"

"Sorry" is a word you like to say

But "sorry" won't erase the things you did yesterday

And I want you to know that I didn't need you anyway

And this rope that we walk on is swaying

And the ties that bind us – they will never ever fray

But I want for you to know

You are… you are… unforgiven

Daddy, daddy

Fan of absolute simplicity

Daddy, daddy

Expert in responsibility

Where were you when I fell down and skinned my knee?

Where were you when I was scared to go to sleep?

Where were you to soothe my insecurities?

Why can't I be angry?

Where were you the first time someone broke my heart?

Where were you when I first learned to drive a car?

Where were you when I plugged in my first guitar?

It's too late for "I'm sorry"

And I want you to know that I didn't need you anyway

And this rope that we walk on is swaying

And the ties that bind us – they will never ever fray

But I want for you to know

You are… you are… unforgiven

"Sorry" is a word you like to say

But "sorry" won't erase the things you did yesterday

And I want you to know that I didn't need you anyway

And this rope that we walk on is swaying

And the ties that bind us – they will never ever fray

But I want for you to know

You are… you are… unforgiven

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