Disclaimer: I am making no money from this. The method of time-travelling used in this story is adapted from the one used in the BBC TV series 'Ashes to Ashes' and 'Life on Mars', whereby a traumatic incident sends the traveller back in time without them seeming to leave the present. I resisted the temptation to call this chapter 'Back to the Future', but only just!

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

05- Journey's End

The redheaded girl named Blaze screamed as the car veered onto the pavement, sending tables and chairs in every direction. Remy was hit before he had chance to react. There was a thud as he hit the bonnet. The car kept coming. Remy smacked against the windscreen and shattered the glass. Then he disappeared beyond the car, which finally came to rest inches from where Blaze was stood. For a moment the only sound was the hiss of steam escaping from the car's engine. The car door opened and a woman driver emerged. She looked as bad as Blaze felt, as if she was about to throw up.

"Est-il blessé? Est-il respirer? Est-il..."

"Shut it lady!" Blaze snapped at the car driver, who recoiled as if the redhead had slapped her. Blaze didn't care. She put a hand on the bonnet of the car and leapt over it, the hot metal not affecting her in the slightest. Landing on the far side of the car, she crouched down over Remy's stricken form. "Rem? Remy? Can you hear me?" she hesitated, fighting back the awful feeling that he might be dead. Bracing herself, she reached out and touched him. The pulse at his neck was strong, and Blaze let out a sigh of relief.

By now a crowd was gathering. The driver was hysterical, babbling to three or four onlookers. She didn't know what had happened, she had lost control of the vehicle and before she knew what was happening she was crashing. Someone was using a cell phone to call the emergency services. Blaze gulped. She had no intention of hanging around to speak to the gendarmerie. She tried to concentrate on Remy. Was he badly hurt? She didn't know; her knowledge of first aid was limited to three weeks as a Girl Guide when she was thirteen.

"Remy please wake up," she sobbed, falling to her knees and brushing his hair back from his forehead. He didn't seem to be bleeding except for a handful of scrapes and bruises. Blaze ran her hands over his limbs, trying to feel if anything was broken.

"Mrrm, dat tickles," Gambit protested meekly.

"Remy, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

In response Gambit slowly opened his eyes and tried to look round. Blaze gasped as he struggled to focus on her. His eyes were brown, boring and ordinary brown. Gambit reached out blindly, trying to sit up. Blaze offered her arm and helped him into a sitting position.

"What happened?" Gambit asked her, shaking his head to try and stop seeing stars.

"The car, that weirdo with the white thread threw it at you," Blaze tried to explain, tearing her gaze away from Gambit to see if she could find the culprit amongst the onlookers. He wasn't there.

"My 'plane," Remy muttered, "it was going down. Must've crashed…"

"'Plane?" Blaze asked, "You haven't got a plane, Remy. It was a car…"

"Jacks over fives," Gambit gave half a smile. The smile quickly turned into a frown, "Where's Logan? Did he make it?"

"We don't know anyone called Logan. You've been in a car crash."

"I'm dreamin' again," Remy told himself.

"No, you're not," Blaze told him, cradling him in her arms. "Please Remy, you're scaring me…" Blaze froze as the sound of sirens reached her. "Rem we have to go."

"I'll make my own way."

"No you bloody well won't," Blaze told him forcefully, focusing her concern into anger to make her strong enough for both of them. "I can't carry you Remy, you have to get up. Now Gambit. Get up!" Somehow she managed to pull him forward so that he could get his feet underneath him. Remy obliged by standing, albeit unsteadily, and allowing Blaze to put his arm across her shoulder so she could help him walk. With the crowd distracted by the arriving police, Blaze guided Gambit away to safety.

They had a crummy apartment above a shop a short walk away from the sea front. Blaze struggled to get Remy up the tight winding staircase and kick open the door. Inside the full-length window was open over a rusting Juliet balcony. The greying lace curtain billowed in the breeze. There was a dining table with a laptop on it and a 1950s kitchenette. A second room housed an oaken double bed and had a small bathroom off it. It was cheap and depressing, but it was home whilst they were in Nice. Gambit didn't recognise it at all; "Where are we?"

Blaze bit her tongue, guiding Gambit into the bedroom and sitting him down on the edge of the bed. She took off his Converse sneakers and knelt back. To her relief his eyes had started to change colour again. The irises were already crimson, and the whites were turning grey. Even better, he could focus on her now and there didn't seem to be any signs of concussion.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Blaze asked, making a rude gesture. Remy snorted a laugh, shaking his head.

"Don't make me laugh, it hurts," he moaned.

"You're lucky to be hurting," Blaze replied. "That car hit you fast. It could have killed you."

"I don't remember no car," Remy murmured, rubbing his brow with the back of his hand. He ran his fingers through his hair and came up short. Confused he asked Blaze, "Did you cut my hair?"

"No," Blaze frowned. "Why?"

"No reason," Gambit looked past her to where an ornate mirror hung on the wall. The mirror was greasy and the image fuzzy, but it showed him what he wanted to know. "My eyes…"

"Back to normal," Blaze confirmed gently. She ran her fingers under his jaw and turned his face to look at her. "I think you're just bruised, you'll be alright in a couple of days." She climbed up off the floor and sat next to him on the bed.

"Blaze," he suddenly remembered. The name surprised him. He hadn't known that he knew it. Turning to take her hand he told her the truth, "I t'ought I dreamt you."

"Really? I was the best you could dream up?"

"How long was I gone?" he asked. Blaze was stumped by that question. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts into a coherent answer. "You were out of my sight for less than thirty seconds, you didn't go anywhere."

"Non," Remy shook his head. "I was dere for months, Petite. They locked me up on T'ree Mile Island but I escaped. I went home…"

"New Orleans?"

"Yeah," Gambit pursed his lips, confused. "I t'ink I saw Jean-Luc. He was… I t'ink he was there to take me off the streets. He wasn't much older than we are when he took me in. No wonder he was un mauvais père. Blaze, I t'ink I saw myself as an enfant."

"How?" Blaze was equally bewildered. Gambit didn't know the answer, so he pretended not to have heard her.

"Then Logan came, an' we went back to the prison an' freed the other mutants. They were testin' on 'em, even t'ough they were jus' kids. We freed 'em an' a man came in a black 'copter an' took 'em all away. Logan lost his memory, he didn't know who I was. Or who he was... I know how dat feels…" Gambit gave up trying to stay sat up and collapsed back onto the bed. He shut his eyes tight and waited for the nausea to pass.

"Let me get this straight," Blaze sighed, looking down on him. "You got hit by the car and it sent you back about fifteen years to when you were a little kid and your dad first took you in. You won a 'plane in a game of poker and used it to help some bloke called Logan free some mutant kids from a testing facility. You thought you'd dreamt me and you didn't remember who you were. Then the plane crashed and sent you back to the exact moment you left."

"Dat's about it," Gambit agreed mildly.

"I suppose the lack of memory stopped you placing any bets whilst you were there. You could've made a fortune on stuff that hadn't happened yet," teased Blaze gently.

"Vous ne me croyez pas."

"No I don't believe you. Time travel isn't possible, Rem. Besides you never went anywhere. You got hit by a car and knocked out. This is just the brain's way of dealing with it." Gambit said nothing in reply. Blaze stood and went to leave the room. Almost as an afterthought she looked back over her shoulder and said, "If you dreamt me, did you… y'know, with anyone else?"

Gambit didn't even open his eyes to answer, "You mad at me for somet'ing you don't believe happened?"

"Maybe," Blaze replied, turning back to him and wrapping her arms around herself. "I haven't decided yet."

Somehow Remy managed to sit up and then stand. Blaze watched as he made unsteady steps across the room towards her. He kissed her fully, rewarded as she pressed her warm and slender body against his. He broke away and pressed his lips to the top of her head, smelling her hair. "Come to bed," he told her huskily.

"You've just been hit by a car," Blaze replied, looking up at him with Bambi eyes. "You can't possibly…"

"I ain't seen you for months," Remy smiled, "Watch me…"