Title: "Never Should Have Loved"
Author: Kat Lee
Rating: Soft R/M
Summary: Emma knows she's an idiot.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, names, codenames, places, items, fandoms, titles, and etc. are always © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Any and all original characters and everything else is © & TM the author and may not be reproduced in any way without the author's express, written permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.

She wonders, sometimes, why she fell for him. Scott Summers isn't the type of man with whom a woman like her should fall in love. She's more powerful, more beautiful, and stronger than he'll ever be. She used to be richer, too, by far, but her fortune is yet another thing which she allowed him to take from her.

Okay, Emma sighs, thinking and blowing at her blonde hair, an annoying habit she's picked up from having to spend too much time with youngsters, he didn't steal all of her fortune. Her sister took a lot of it, but he took a great deal of what was left. That's not fair, either, she thinks. She gave it to him, but it was her belief in him that made her shell the money over and still has her backing their operation as much as she is able.

She shouldn't even be here, she thinks, glaring across the room at Magneto and Magik. This isn't the reason she signed on to the X-Men. Scott no longer truly believes in Xavier's dream, but then, she herself did not believe in the dream for so long. It took losing her Hellions to make her see the light.

But she knows that's not the reason she's here. It's not why she chose to stay with this branch of the X-Men, continues to support Scott, and declined Logan's offer to truly teach students and help build a better tomorrow for the young mutants. It's not why she fights every day of her life or why she feels like she has to claw out a survival for herself. It's not why she's hurting inside, no matter how much champagne she swallows, or why she's been stripped of her mutant powers.

She broke another one of her rules. She did something she swore she'd never do. She fell in love, and, like an idiot, she believed she could have the happily ever after like the Princesses did in the fairy tale books her babysitters used to read her. She hated those books. Emma remembers that well. They sparked a burning fire in her against Princesses and all the other women who think marriage can solve all of their problems.

Marriage is a lie. It's a crock, and women don't need men. They're tools to be used. She wasn't supposed to get married; she wasn't supposed to fall in love. Emma's lips twist as she finds the fact that she was smarter a child than she is now quite ironic.

Scott Summers was a tool when she first met him. He was a tool of Xavier to lead his team when he no longer possessed the courage or strength to do so himself and to bring mutantkind the rest of the way into the world Charles wanted for them, a world where mutants and humans could live peacefully together, a world that too many of them has since come to realize, sadly, probably is never going to happen. He was a tool of Storm's to lead the X-Men in situations in which she did not wish to be involved and at times when she wanted to leave the team. He was a tool of his wife's, to give her passion and what she thought was love and to always convince her that whatever she was doing was the right thing.

Emma made him a tool, too. She used him to get into the X-Men when none of the others would have her and to stay on the team when everybody else wanted her gone and dead. She used him as a toy to entertain her, a fire to keep her bed warm, and a tool to hurt Jean Grey. She used him to get what she wanted for a long time and never once loved him during that time, no matter how many times she persuaded him otherwise.

Yet, at some point during the game where she was using Scott like a cat dangling a mouse, like every other man with whom she'd ever been, the tables changed. Something happened. A moment came that she can not even remember now, and she became the tool. He hurt her so many times, and she always forgave him. She always made excuses for him. He was inflicting pain on her, because he was angry with himself for being untrue to Jean. He was yelling at her, because he wanted her to yell back at him. He was hurting her, because he felt like he should be hurt.

She always had an excuse, but now, she can find none. She can find no reason for why she does what she does now except for the obvious ignorance blatantly staring her in the face, staring at her and making fun of her, laughing at her for her own weakness and stupidity. Somehow, she's fallen in love with Scott Summers!

She doesn't know when it happened, when he went from being a tool to actually charming her, when she went from using him to actually caring about him, but she knows that's what's happened. She knows that's why she's here, why she hurts so much, and why she aches for him to forgive her or even to just hear his thoughts in her mind again. Her world is empty without her telepathy, but it's not the buzz of other people's thoughts that she misses so much.

She misses the power and control it gave her. She misses being able to slip into anybody's minds at any time, lay their souls open to her, reveal their darkest secrets, twist them, and use them to do her bidding. She misses feeling like she was the strongest and coldest bitch to ever walk the earth and she could make anybody do anything she pleased. Yet, most of all, she misses hearing him, sharing secrets with him, and feeling him within her even when they were thousands of miles apart. She wonders if she'll ever have that again and fears that her telepathy will return but not her bond with Scott.

She's never felt the way he made her feel. She's had a plethora of lovers; Namor wasn't the first Prince she took to bed. She's been used, abused, and made gentle love to. She's felt the sting of a whip across her bare flesh and a cocoon of hazy, pleasured loving with lips gently covering every inch of her skin. Scott's not the first to be gentle to her, but he is the first to love her.

That's the problem, Emma knows. That's why she fell for him: because he loved her first. He was the first man to, perhaps the only person who will ever, look beyond all her faults, recognize her fears and doubts, never speak a word of them, and love her any way. He was the first to truly take her into his heart. She made him choose her over Jean the first time, but when the redhead returned from her grave, he was the one who chose to send her back to death and keep loving Emma.

Emma rises and leaves the others, going to her room and shutting and locking the door behind her. She leans against its closed frame for support as she shuts her eyes tightly and the tears begin again. He loved her! He actually loved her, and she was fool enough to betray him, fool enough to think that it wouldn't matter, fool enough to think he wouldn't find out or she could make him forgive her if he did. She was fool enough, in short, to fall in love with him in the first place!

She shakes her blonde head at her own stupidity and stumbles blindly toward her bed, her champagne glass held tightly in her hand. She sinks onto her bed, lowers her head, and cries. She's fool enough to love Scott Summers still. After all he's done to her, after all he's taken from her and is, no doubt, yet to take, she still loves him. If only she had telepathy back at full control, she could wipe her own mind of this love, remove the memories of her tryst with Namor from his mind, or simply make him love her again!

But, thanks again to her own stupidity, Emma may never have her full powers again or, if she does, may never wield complete control over them again. That's yet another thing she let him take from her when she allowed her love for him and the strength of the Phoenix force to overpower her and make her evil again. She fears she may never live down these last terrible things she did, that her powers may never return, that he might never forgive her, and that he might be the only one to ever love her. Emma lets her champagne glass slip from her hand and shatter on the floor as she crawls into bed and admits the terrifying the truth to herself as she cries and shakes. Worst of all, she fears, she'll never stop loving a man whom she never should have loved at all.

The End