Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men or their world, and am making no money
from this story. Corrinth owns Dr Ilehana Xavier. I own Blaze.
A/N: Reviews are gold dust, and duly appreciated.
03
Alone in her room, the door locked, Blaze sat on the edge of her unmade bed and trembled.
Why was she trembling, it was no big deal? Like Storm said, everyone forgot stuff from time to time.
No, she didn't. And not even someone with a normal memory would forget where a restaurant was that someone had attempted to kill you in. Gambit remembered, and he'd forget his head if it was loose sometimes. She smiled at that. Hadn't always been true, but most days Gambit did make her smile.
She pulled her mind away from him; he couldn't help her with this. What she had to do was simple, it was just time for a little spring-cleaning in her memory. The Professor had been helping her to do it, a little bit at a time, tidying the chaos of her memories up so she could find what she needed when she needed it. Simple. And she could do it without Xavier, surely? After all, she'd spent literally years before she met Xavier completely quashing her mutant ability to create fire. That had all been in her mind, done through meditation and various tricks Gambit had taught her. This was just a bit of tidying that needed doing.
Resolved, she moved off the bed. Candles were scattered around the room, dusty and abandoned. She released a tiny fireball by clicking her fingers, sending it around the room to light the candles once more as she cleared a space on her rug. It had finished, and she had reabsorbed the fireball, before she had carefully piled her misshapen collection of books and CDs in a different spot on the floor. A favourite soundtrack to her meditation was put on to play, the music soothing.
She stopped then. Sat down cross-legged on the rug she breathed deeply and surveyed the room. Everything in its place, even if she was the only one to understand the order. She was still shaking. Had this unnerved her that much? She was an X-Man; she saved the world for a living for crying out loud. And she was a schoolteacher to a bunch of unruly mutant teenagers. How could what was in her own mind make her afraid?
Because she knew what was in there.
No help for it. She closed her eyes, throwing herself deeply into a meditative trance. Breathing slowed, she let her muscles relax and find their own places. The wind from the always-open window was refreshing, a gentle caress like a mother's fingers on her child's skin. And then, she was there.........
The restaurant was quiet, the buzz and hubbub from the kitchen louder than the few conversations that splattered the assorted tables. The glass- panelled door creaked as Gambit pushed it open, and then nodded the all clear for Blaze to walk past him and in. The girl in her bedroom in another time and place recognised the treacherous waiter, the table they would sit at, the man they had come to talk to sat in a corner by himself, smoking and reading a paper.
This was it then, the restaurant in Lisbon. Now to put it in its place, file it away so she wouldn't get the details wrong again. Blaze took a deep breath, wrapping the memory up in a bubble of light like the Professor had showed her. Thinking the memory secure, she looked as to where to put it. Before joining the X-Men, that much was easy, and her X-Men memories the ones she and the Professor had already organised. After Madrid, where Jacobi, hated Jacobi, had tried to have her shot. That had been stupid of him, and he'd even been arrogant enough to give Gambit a warning. He'd not tried that again.
After Paris then, the closest thing Blaze the thief had had to a home. Where they'd run to try and escape Jacobi. The crime lord had wanted to hire Remy. Blaze, he'd been told, would only stand in his way. So he wanted to kill her, put the fear of God into Gambit and get the New Orleans' born mutant that way. In Paris he'd tried to have Blaze garrotted.........
Suddenly, the girl in the bedroom felt her hands shoot unprovoked to her slender throat. She could feel the wire! She was bleeding, bruising, her throat being pulled closed! No air! She couldn't breathe, she couldn't do anything! She would die!
The memory stopped. Some chance passer-by had saved her, scared off Jacobi's man and got her to hospital. To the authorities. Not Blaze's favourite people, but she hadn't been able to argue. In her bedroom, Blaze gulped the cold air in gratefully, still holding her own throat gently as though to protect it. What was happening to her?
In her mind, behind her metaphorical back, behind her focus as she was distracted by the memory of a strong man pulling wire closed around her throat, the bubble of the Lisbon memory was changing. Not longer translucent and dainty, the bubble of light shifted. It became dark, murky yellow. Then that changed, yellow fading into brown and black. A prickling sensation ran up Blaze's spine. Her meditating self turned, and the blackness swallowed her completely..........
A/N: Reviews are gold dust, and duly appreciated.
03
Alone in her room, the door locked, Blaze sat on the edge of her unmade bed and trembled.
Why was she trembling, it was no big deal? Like Storm said, everyone forgot stuff from time to time.
No, she didn't. And not even someone with a normal memory would forget where a restaurant was that someone had attempted to kill you in. Gambit remembered, and he'd forget his head if it was loose sometimes. She smiled at that. Hadn't always been true, but most days Gambit did make her smile.
She pulled her mind away from him; he couldn't help her with this. What she had to do was simple, it was just time for a little spring-cleaning in her memory. The Professor had been helping her to do it, a little bit at a time, tidying the chaos of her memories up so she could find what she needed when she needed it. Simple. And she could do it without Xavier, surely? After all, she'd spent literally years before she met Xavier completely quashing her mutant ability to create fire. That had all been in her mind, done through meditation and various tricks Gambit had taught her. This was just a bit of tidying that needed doing.
Resolved, she moved off the bed. Candles were scattered around the room, dusty and abandoned. She released a tiny fireball by clicking her fingers, sending it around the room to light the candles once more as she cleared a space on her rug. It had finished, and she had reabsorbed the fireball, before she had carefully piled her misshapen collection of books and CDs in a different spot on the floor. A favourite soundtrack to her meditation was put on to play, the music soothing.
She stopped then. Sat down cross-legged on the rug she breathed deeply and surveyed the room. Everything in its place, even if she was the only one to understand the order. She was still shaking. Had this unnerved her that much? She was an X-Man; she saved the world for a living for crying out loud. And she was a schoolteacher to a bunch of unruly mutant teenagers. How could what was in her own mind make her afraid?
Because she knew what was in there.
No help for it. She closed her eyes, throwing herself deeply into a meditative trance. Breathing slowed, she let her muscles relax and find their own places. The wind from the always-open window was refreshing, a gentle caress like a mother's fingers on her child's skin. And then, she was there.........
The restaurant was quiet, the buzz and hubbub from the kitchen louder than the few conversations that splattered the assorted tables. The glass- panelled door creaked as Gambit pushed it open, and then nodded the all clear for Blaze to walk past him and in. The girl in her bedroom in another time and place recognised the treacherous waiter, the table they would sit at, the man they had come to talk to sat in a corner by himself, smoking and reading a paper.
This was it then, the restaurant in Lisbon. Now to put it in its place, file it away so she wouldn't get the details wrong again. Blaze took a deep breath, wrapping the memory up in a bubble of light like the Professor had showed her. Thinking the memory secure, she looked as to where to put it. Before joining the X-Men, that much was easy, and her X-Men memories the ones she and the Professor had already organised. After Madrid, where Jacobi, hated Jacobi, had tried to have her shot. That had been stupid of him, and he'd even been arrogant enough to give Gambit a warning. He'd not tried that again.
After Paris then, the closest thing Blaze the thief had had to a home. Where they'd run to try and escape Jacobi. The crime lord had wanted to hire Remy. Blaze, he'd been told, would only stand in his way. So he wanted to kill her, put the fear of God into Gambit and get the New Orleans' born mutant that way. In Paris he'd tried to have Blaze garrotted.........
Suddenly, the girl in the bedroom felt her hands shoot unprovoked to her slender throat. She could feel the wire! She was bleeding, bruising, her throat being pulled closed! No air! She couldn't breathe, she couldn't do anything! She would die!
The memory stopped. Some chance passer-by had saved her, scared off Jacobi's man and got her to hospital. To the authorities. Not Blaze's favourite people, but she hadn't been able to argue. In her bedroom, Blaze gulped the cold air in gratefully, still holding her own throat gently as though to protect it. What was happening to her?
In her mind, behind her metaphorical back, behind her focus as she was distracted by the memory of a strong man pulling wire closed around her throat, the bubble of the Lisbon memory was changing. Not longer translucent and dainty, the bubble of light shifted. It became dark, murky yellow. Then that changed, yellow fading into brown and black. A prickling sensation ran up Blaze's spine. Her meditating self turned, and the blackness swallowed her completely..........