Disclaimer: The concepts and characters from the Night at the Museum that are used in this fanfiction do not belong to me and remain the respective properties of the original films' production company. I am making no profit from this piece of work.
Author's Notes: Inspired by the momentary pause on Jed after Kahmunrah tells him to save his breath in the second movie.
There are probably some of you who are wondering what is going on here. Well as I said when I had to leave this story four years ago, I always intended to come back and I have. Yes it has been a long time but I have had a lot of low-on-inspiration based and personal reasons for taking my time. Still I came back and realized that in my absence my writing style had changed a lot and I made the decision to go back and rewrite what I already had to better suit that style (for consistency) and also change things to make for better characterisation and set up story better in later chapters.
I hope those of you who have waited find it to have been worth the wait and that you enjoy it.
Sands of Time
Chapter One: It Had Happened Before
Jedediah stretched his arms behind his back until they cracked. It had been a while since the Battle of the Smithsonian but he was still waking up stiff after the whole ordeal.
He shook his head trying to dislodge the memory of being at the mercy of that snake in the grass; stuck in that small compartment. Not fun. He hadn't talked to anyone about it, despite a few asking out of curiosity but their worries held no ground. He was fine. Still it didn't stop the occasional person fussing over him having been at such risk. Now Octavius had the right attitude; pick up and move on from it, pretend it never happened. There were reasons the two of them were best buds.
It was always easy to shake off mother hens though, simply by pointing out that he'd survived and they were all back home at the Museum of Natural History. Both very true statements and the fact was, who could want for more?
All around him the other miniatures were already moving, getting ready for the visitors who were due to come in for the new late hours of the museum. They were actually quite popular with the crowd, mainly because everyone thought they were all clever projections or highly advanced tiny animatronics or something of that sort and everyone was in awe trying to figure it out.
"Hey Jed." Stepping forward, Jed grinned as he saw Larry enter the Hall and head straight for the Old West.
"Evenin' Gigantor."
"Listen, I was thinking tonight you could do a talk or something down at the information desk." Larry threw a glance over the rest of the miniatures giving them a small wave before coming back to Jed and half shrugging. "Try something a bit new, you know…since you broke the plane."
Jed rolled his eyes, he was wondering when this was going to come up. "Now, you know I told you that was a mistake."
"Darn right it was a mistake. And it's not one I'm going to let you make again."
"There weren't no casualties, no fires. No one got hurt."
Still Larry was shaking his head as he pointed accusingly down at the little guy. "I don't care. For the foreseeable future you are grounded."
"Thank God." Jed turned and saw Octavius stood at edge of the display, removing his helmet. "I prefer to keep my feet firmly on the ground."
"Wuss." Jed hissed across at him, turning back as Larry called his name to get his attention back.
"We're opening in five minutes. And I want you downstairs out of trouble."
Clapping his hands together Jedediah smiled and stepped forward. "Well if you insist." Jed climbed onto the proffered hand Larry held out for him to take a ride on, holding on as he was lifted.
They passed out the hall of miniatures and the little cowboy watched as the entrances to the different exhibits whizzed past, ignoring the names and contents and instead revelling in the feeling of the wind rushing through his hair. You didn't get that a lot when you were as small as he and Octavius were. Normally winds of that strength would blow them off their feet. And he'd started to noticed, since coming back from Washington, that he'd started seeking out little feelings of freedom like this.
"Jed!" called Nick, Larry's son, jogging over to greet them as they approached the desk.
"Well, howdy Nickster." Jed clambered off Larry's hand, leaving both of them free for the night guard to open the front door. "I didn't know you were comin' tonight."
"Mom had a work thing so she said I could stay with Dad for tonight." Nick flashed a big smile before dashing off to play with Rexy. That kid really would use any excuse to come to the museum for the night. And of course he was welcomed by all the exhibits.
Finally the revolving doors were unlocked and the first museum patrons of the night started to pour in; family groups with young, eager-faced children staring in awe at Rexy, and teenagers with nothing better to do; couples looking for an evening of interest; groups of young people meeting up for an evening out; worst of all, in the far corner Jedediah could see the beginning of a gathering of young children gathering by the doors. A field trip.
Now there was nothing wrong with field trips, Jed was all for education of young'uns, but there was something about little kids that made them incapable of reading the 'DO NOT TOUCH THE MINIATURES' sign that hung in their Hall, and every time a field trip turned up, at least one of them would try and pick up and manhandle him. It was probably for the best that he was down here tonight after all.
All in all it was looking to be a good night. Lots of patrons, plenty of interest, reassurance of their home staying open but being the little guy that he was, Jedediah went mostly unnoticed on the desk, barely getting any acknowledgements by the people who were passing him by, no matter how loud he was calling out. After a while he sat dpwn on a pencil sharpener and settled to watch folks bustle by. It wasn't long before he realised that it was incredibly boring and he began to suspect it might actually be some form of punishment. Honestly, you have one little incident with a remote control plane...
Normally Jed wouldn't be bothered by having a quiet night, he didn't mind them every once in a while but tonight...tonight was turning into one of those nights he had been trying to avoid lately. One where his thoughts kept straying onto things he didn't want to think on. Maybe he should have stayed upstairs, entertained people or talked with Octavius, something, anything, to keep his mind occupied and away from other things. Yet here he was on the front desk, left to think, although not deliberately. And as ever his thoughts came back round his...incidents.
No one had any idea about them. He had gone well out of his way to make sure no one noticed. He hadn't told them and besides he barely understood it himself. All he knew was that whatever it was, it didn't feel right. And he hoped that if he ignored it enough it might go away.
Tonight was going to be a good night for the museum by the looks of it; plenty of visitors milling around, oohing and aahing at the different wandering exhibits. Perhaps he ought to try again to draw someone over; impart some wisdom on the ways of the Old West. But no one looked that interested, and they would probably be unable to hear or see the small cowboy from his inconvenient space. Round here everything important was at eye level, so no one was really looking down at the desk.
Plenty were looking over it, intrigued by the ostrich trying to pry an information guide from its rack. Larry soon stopped it though, by trying to take the guide from its beak and somehow ending up on its back as it charged around the main lobby. After two circuits the bird stopped and the poor guy was thrown forward, over its head and landing on his back five feet away, guide tight in hand. He stood up, carefully, to the roaring applause of the small audience who had gathered to watch and held the guide triumphantly.
Jed whooped as Larry replaced the guide in the rack, and Larry heard giving him a two-finger salute before heading off again. Never a dull moment around here. It was as if every night was a party for their victory over Kahmunrah.
Soon though his thoughts settled again and that feeling of dread appeared to have welled up in the time he'd stopped paying it attention. Closing his eyes, Jed quietly prayed for the feeling to leave him be, as it sometimes did. Unfortunately this wasn't one of those times and the feeling only gradually worsened, compressing his chest tighter and tighter. This was always how it started, and it only ever got worse.
Opening his eyes, he watched everyone moving about; laughter and joy, fun and delight and, as his chest continued to worsen, it felt more like he was watching it from a distance. Like when his ton used to watch those old night guards through their cage doorway. They knew it was right there but it wasn't close enough. But he knew it was right there, right in front of him. This part was always difficult; seeing things like this made him feel like he was looking at things wrong.
The pressure on his chest increased again, as though something was squeezing harder and harder on him and his vision began to swim . Worried, Jed screwed his eyes even tighter shut. If he couldn't see it then he could convince himself he was just ill, although how a plastic miniature such as himself could get ill was something he didn't know. The enforced darkness was making him feel a little better now, though he could feel the nausea setting in and his stomach churned as the weight on his chest continued to grow.
He was vaguely aware of his legs giving way and pain erupting down his left side as he thudded to the desk surface and the words began to float into his head. Cruel, harsh words spoken by a lunatic Pharaoh. Crazy ass words which he should have dismissed the second he heard them...but he hadn't. He'd listened. And for a moment, one tiny inconsequential moment, Jed had believed them.
'I'd save my breath if I were you,' the memory of them as they filled his head were as clear as the first time he'd heard them, 'you don't have many left.'
And as he began to lose consciousness he had an uneasy feeling that the words were somehow right.
