Syllogism

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones. This is a purely fan-made story. It was written just for fun, NOT profit. No copyright infringement is intended.

Indiana Jones couldn't sleep. The sun had gone down hours ago. The moon shone brightly in the night sky. Yet Indy was still wide awake. Part of the reason for this was that Indy had agreed to take the night's watch while his father, Henry Jones, Sr. and his friends, Marcus Brody and Sallah slept.

But truth be told, Indy was afraid to fall asleep. The events that had transpired in the temple yesterday were still fresh in this mind. Indy feared the memories would cause to have very vivid, frighteningly realistic nightmares.

Indiana Jones normally didn't consider himself to be a squeamish man. (Unless, of course, snakes were involved.) But blood was something that had never really bothered him. Over the course of his numerous adventures, Indy had seen more bloodshed that most people would ever see in their entire lives. And sometimes, that blood had even been Indy's own. But what had happened yesterday was different. As much as Indy wanted to forget the incident, he just couldn't. And he knew the memories would stay with him forever.

Yesterday, in the temple, Indy had come so close to loosing his father forever. Henry Jones, Sr. had been shot by Walter Donovan. It was a ploy to get Indy to go after the Holly Grail. Donovan had originally made it look like he was going to shoot Indy. As much as he hated to admit it, Indy almost wished that Donovan had actually shot him. He wasn't afraid to die. He'd come close to dying earlier that day, when he'd narrowly escaped from a runaway tank right before the tank plummeted over the edge of a cliff. If Indy had been the one to get shot, he imagined spending his last moments being held in his fathers arms as he died. The thought almost brought Indy to tears.

But Henry Sr. got shot instead. The sight of a bullet ripping through his father's abdomen filled Indy with a type of fear he had never felt before. To say the relationship between Indy and Henry was a rocky one would be an understatement. Prior to their quest for the Holly Grail, father and son had barely spoken to each other in 20 years. But despite all that, and the fact that Indy was a grown man, part of him, perhaps foolishly, still clung to that childlike belief that his father was invincible.

That belief shattered with Donovan's bullet, not to mention the sight of Henry's blood flowing from the wound. Indy closed his eyes for the briefest moment, and he saw the scene play out before him. The "Bang" as a shot rang out from Donovan's gun. The look of pain and horror on Henry's face as he realized he'd been shot. The fear that seized hold of Indy's heart.

"Dad?" he'd cried. "Dad?!"

"Junior," Henry rasped as he fell against his son. Indy remembered his intense inner turmoil has he struggled to not let his emotions get the better of him.

Brody and Sallah rushed over to Indy's side, and helped him lower Henry to the floor. Indy started examining his father's wound. It was deep, and possibly fatal. Indy pressed a handkerchief to his father's side, in an effort to staunch the flow of blood.

That's when a new emotion overshadowed the fear Indy had been feeling. It was rage. And it was a rage unlike any Indy had ever felt before. This was rage mixed in with a dangerous lust for revenge. Murder filling his eyes, Indy rose fast and spun toward Donovan. He swore he would make the other man pay for what he had done, even if it was the last thing Indy himself ever did. But then he saw that Donovan once again had the gun leveled at him.

"You can't save him when you're dead," said Donovan. "The healing power of the Grail is the only thing that can save your father now. It's time to ask yourself what you believe."

Indy knew Henry was dying. Part of him wanted nothing more to stay by his father's side during the older man's final moments. But deep down inside, Indy knew he had no other choice. All his life, Indy had very highly doubted the existence of the Holly Grail. That was ironic, really, considering how Indy himself had found the Ark of the Covenant, and had experienced that artifact's power firsthand. Still, if there was a possibility the Grail was real, and if it actually did posses the power to save his father's life, then it was a chance that Indy would just have to take.

Indy entered the passageway. He bravely faced the three challenges: The Breath of God, The Word of God and The Path of God. As crazy as it may seem, there were times when Indy could almost feel as if Henry was right beside him, guiding him where to go.

In the end, Indy did find the Holly Grail. He'd brought it back to his father's side just in the nick of time. Henry Sr. had just been about to take his last breath when Indy knelt beside him, Grail in hand. The son gently poured some of the water from the Grail into his father's mouth. Henry drank as best he could, some of the water dribbled down the sides of his mouth. That's when Indy proceeded to pour the remaining water from the Grail directly onto Henry's wound. The wound started to steam as the water from the Grail made contact with it. This caused Henry to wince in pain. But then, something truly extraordinary happened. The wound in Henry's side started to heal, and then it completely disappeared. Within seconds, it was as if nothing had ever happened to Henry.

Indy suddenly opened his eyes. It would seem that while he was lost in his memories, he had inadvertently fallen asleep. Indy stood up and looked around. Dawn was just starting to break over the horizon. Indy wondered how long he had been sleeping for. As much as he wanted to mentally kick himself for falling asleep while he was supposed to be on watch duty, he had to admit that he'd sorely needed the rest. Indy noticed that his father, Brody and Sallah were still sleeping. But he had a feeling it wouldn't be long before his father awoke to begin his day. Henry Jones, Sr. was known to be a notoriously early riser.

As if on cue, Henry opened his eyes. He sat up. He spotted Indy sitting on a rock not far off from the rest of the group.

"My God, boy!" Henry exclaimed as he walked up to his son. "Did you stay up all night?"

"That had been my plan," said Indy. "I'm used to these all-nighters, Dad. But even so, I must have fallen asleep anyway."

"If you were feeling so tired, you should have gotten either me, Marcus or Sallah," said Henry. "One of us would have gladly taken over the watch from you, while you got some sleep."

"It honestly had never crossed my mind to do that," said Indy. "And I wasn't even aware I'd fallen asleep until I'd actually woken up."

"Did you have any dreams?" asked Henry. Indy only nodded in response. "Do you want to talk about it?" Henry asked.

"Not really," said Indy. "It was just a dream, anyway. It's no big deal, really."

"You were dreaming about what happened to me yesterday, weren't you?" asked Henry. Indy didn't say anything. All he could do was look his father squarely in the eyes. The silence spoke volumes. "I'll take that as a yes," said Henry. "Oh, I had no idea how much this was affecting you. I'm truly very sorry, Junior."

"And there you go again!" said Indy, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

"What?" asked Henry.

"Back at it with the "Junior,"" said Indy. "When were were in the temple, you called me "Indiana" for the first time ever in my life. And you did it not just once, but twice. It's something that I'll never forget. But then about five minutes later, you called me "Junior" again."

"I can't help it, son," said Henry. "That is your birth name, after all. Henry Walton Jones, Jr. Born on July 1st, 1899, in Princeton, New Jersey."

"I know my full name, my birthday and where I was born, Dad," said Indy. "No need to tell me twice. When I was a kid, you could have just referred to me as Henry, you know? I wouldn't have minded that so much. Like you said, it is my name. It's just the way you would constantly refer to me only as "Junior" that got on my nerves. Every time I heard you call me that, I felt infuriated, and-even worse-deflated."

"I never knew you felt that way, son," said Henry.

"It's one of the reasons I started calling myself Indiana Jones," said Indy. "Now, over these past few days, I've come to realize that I'm proud to have you as my father, and to call myself your son. But by taking the name Indiana, it was my way of proving to the world that I was, and could be, so much more than just Henry Walton Jones, Jr."

"I actually don't mind that you call yourself Indiana," said Henry. "But I just don't understand is why you took that name from the dog, of all sources. Yesterday, you said you had a lot of fond memories of that dog. I know that. And I know how upset you were when Indiana died. Your mother had died several years before the dog did. We'd moved from New Jersey to Utah, because I'd gotten that job teaching at Four Corners University. You were thirteen at the time. And then when you were seventeen, we moved back to New Jersey. It was a lot for a teenaged boy to deal with. I know now that I should have done so much more to help you cope with all the changes."

"Well, I found my own ways to deal with everything," said Indy. "Why do you think I joined the Boy Scouts? It gave me something to do. And kept me out of the house. Not to mention, away from you. It's no secret that communication between you and I was always pretty scarce. But after Mom died, the silence permeated our lives to a point where it just became unbearable. And I just couldn't deal with it."

"Can you just explain to me why you named yourself after the dog?" asked Henry. "Indiana's death is only part of the reason. You called yourself that even when the dog was still alive. I believe the first time you used the name Indiana as your own name was when you were about six-years-old."

"You want to why I named myself after the dog?" asked Indy. "Alright, I'll tell you. But just a warning, Dad. You may not like the answer. When I was a kid, I always felt like Indiana understood me better than you ever could."

Henry stared at his son in silence. His jaw dropped open. He wanted to say something, but he didn't know what to say. He just couldn't think of anything.

"I know it hurts," said Indy. "But it's the truth, Dad. I'm sorry."

"You truly believed I never understood you?" Henry finally asked. "How on Earth did you get an idea like that, boy?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Indy. "I mean, when I was a kid, you certainly made it hard for me to express myself. You said you respected my privacy. But at the same time, I felt like you scrutinized everything I ever did. The clothes I wore. How I styled my hair. What I did with my spare time. None of it was ever good enough for you. And then there was the Grail. From an early age, I convinced myself that, in your eyes, I would always be nothing to you compared to a damn cup. I wasn't kidding when I told I never understood your obsession with the Grail. I just couldn't believe or understand how you could invest more time into something that may or may not have even existed than in your own, and only son. And Indiana was always there for me in a way that you never were. But despite everything I just told you, could you do me a favor?"

"Yes," said Henry. "Anything."

"Can you try to make an effort to call me Indiana more frequently. It would really mean a lot to me."

"I will try...Indiana," said Henry. "But I'm not making any promises. Because old habits die hard, you know."

"You shouldn't say things like that, Dad," said Indy. "Not after what happened to you yesterday."

"Well, you're the one who nearly died first," Henry reminded his son.

"Yeah, I know," said Indy. "All men are mortal," Indy said, seemingly out of nowhere. "I am a man. Ergo, I am mortal." He looked at his father. "All men are mortal," he repeated. He clasped Henry on the shoulder. "You are a man. Ergo, you are mortal. It's a syllogism. Do you remember when you taught me that?"

"Yes, I do," said Henry. "When we were in Greece. That was a long time ago, son. How old were you then?"

"I was eleven," said Indy. "In some ways, that adventure was kind of similar to the one we just had. Remember when you hugged me yesterday?" Henry nodded. "It was the first time in a long time that you had hugged me," Indy continued. "But it wasn't the only time. I remember you hugging me when I was eleven, too. And that syllogism I just mentioned? It's been on my mind since yesterday. Because I'm not sure if it's still true. After all, you and I did both drink from the Holly Grail."

"What do you mean, you drank from the Holly Grail?" asked Henry.

"I did," said Indy. He nodded slightly. "You see, after I faced the challenges, I entered the chamber where the Grail was being held. But there was more than one Grail. Countless Grails lined the walls of the chamber. Most of them were false, but one was the true Grail. It ended up being the little, unassuming one I'd brought back to you. I remembered the drawing of the Grail you'd done in your diary. And what you'd written underneath it: The cup of a carpenter. That cup was the only one to match that description. You probably didn't notice, but Donovan and Elsa followed me into the chamber."

"I didn't notice that," said Henry. "But I had been wondering why Elsa was with you when you came back. And what happened to Donovan?"

"The exact details are too complicated, and quite frankly, too disturbing, to go into," said Indy. "But I'll tell you this much. Old Walter Donovan? Let's just say, he chose...poorly." Indy smirked as he imitated the words of the Grail knight. I then proceeded to drink from the true Grail, to see if it actually was the true Grail. I chose wisely. I brought it back to you. And, well, you know what happened next. So that brings me back to my original question. You and I might now be immortal. But are we still men?"

"Of course we're still men, Indiana," said Henry. "Immortal men, but still men."

"Well, that's a good enough answer for me," said Henry. "Hey, I'm going to go wake up Marcus and Sallah. Then we'd best be on our way."

"Good idea," said Henry. "Indy was about to wake up Marcus and Sallah, when Henry called him back.

"What is it, Dad?" asked Indy. Henry said nothing. Instead, he threw his arms around Indy, and embraced him in a tight hug, much like he had done the previous day.

"I'm so proud of you, Indiana," Henry murmured into his son's ear.

"Thank you, Dad,"

"Indy! Henry! Good morning!" came the voice of Marcus Brody. The elder and younger Jones both turned to find Marcus and Sallah standing behind them.

"Morning, Marcus. Morning, Sallah," said Indy. "I was just about to wake you guys up."

"Well, we're awake now," said Sallah. "So what are we going to do?"

"First, we have to get everything here cleaned up," said Indy. "Then we'll ride until we reach the nearest town. And I guess we'll go on from there." The four men set to packing up their campsite. When that was done, they mounted their horses, and rode off into the horizon.

The End.

Author's notes:

1. This is my first Indiana Jones fanfic.

idea for this fanfic came about because I watched both Young Indiana Jones: Travels with Father and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade on Father's Day.

3. According to the junior novelization of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, by Ryder Windham, Indy and Henry did in fact move to Utah in 1912 because Henry got a job teaching at Four Corners University.

4. When Henry says "Yes, anything," it is indeed a reference to Star Wars: The Force Awakens. By now, I'm sure everyone know the exact scene in that movie where this line comes from, and what happens in said scene. I honestly don't know why I decided to put it in this story. I guess I just couldn't help it. I'm sorry if some of you might find that upsetting.