DEATH WAS ALWAYS A concept that intrigued Indiana Jones.
As a matter of fact, Indiana Jones liked hurting people. She never discriminated, never picking by gender, sex, color, or species. She hurt only those who deserved it most. The strange thing about it was that Indiana truthfully enjoyed it. She got off on it. She found pleasure in doing such a horrid act.
It's like when you hear serial killers say they feel no regret or remorse for all those people they killed. Indiana Jones was like that. She didn't care how long it took either because she was never in a hurry. Time never mattered. She would wait until they were totally in love with her... until their big, saucer eyes were looking at her. Indiana loved the shock on their faces, the glaze in their eyes as they tried to hide how much Indiana was hurting them.
"I think I killed them," Indiana once said to her big brother, who at the time had been keeping the biggest part about their relationship a secret. "Their souls, I mean. It was their souls I was after. I know I came close a couple of times. But don't worry. I got my comeuppance. That's why I'm telling you this. Justice was done. Balance has been restored."
Of course, Killian Jones never understood what the girl was saying at the time. She was a killer, a cold-blooded serial killer who cared for only a small pool of people. Indiana Jones carried the guilt of her crimes around for years. She could hardly look people in the eye until she met Killian, who showed her that she could still live a normal life even after doing all sorts of crazy things, having all sorts of insane adventures.
Indiana Jones never actually gave it thought--how she would die. She never sat down and really thought about it, not after learning how to protect herself.
Despite being in the most excruciating pain she'd ever experienced in her entire life, Indiana Jones would describe death as a peaceful sensation. It was almost like standing on a sandy shoreline, watching the sunrise and listening to waves roar lowly. It was like walking through the woods while birds chirped an unrecognizable tune. Indiana would have found herself wondering if her victims had witnessed the same feeling. She would have been wondering this if she weren't so busy thinking about how the girl who had escaped death many times had finally died.
Indiana Jones was dead.
One thing Indiana found herself wonder often before her death was how life would be if she never existed, if she randomly died or disappeared. How would things change?
She didn't know it then, but things were going to be different.
After returning to Storybrooke due to the Wicked Witch's curse, Killian Jones would be juggling a blossoming relationship with Emma Swan and the burden that both his baby sister and his brother had died right in front of him and he could do absolutely nothing about it.
Peter Pan would have to deal with the nightmares he got, each one being the same. Each nightmare was about his true love dying in his arms. Now, he lived in his own apartment with pictures of Indiana all over the place and all of her belongings boxed up in a closet. Peter was no longer in Neverland or the Enchanted Forest. This was Storybrooke--a land he hardly understood. Although the others didn't trust Peter all that much, they knew he was going to try his best to fill the hole that Indiana left in their hearts.
Wherever Snow White, Red Lucas, and David Nolan looked, they would just see all of the memories they shared with the practically invincible teenager. Each time they had a conversation with someone, they would wait for someone to bust out with a bad joke or sarcastic comment. Now, there was just a silence that no one knew how to fill. Indiana was good at that--filling the dead silence.
YOU ARE READING
Indiana Jones ↠ Peter Pan [OUAT] ✓Fanfiction
𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒 | ❝I wished for a big adventure.❞ In which one Indiana Jones is framed for a crime she never committed. Or, alternatively, the tale of a lost girl who never stopped chasing the truth, no matter how hard it tried to run away...