A/N: I know I'm posting this back-to-back with another National Treasure story-but I'm too excited to wait. I also apologize for the use of "getting trapped" as a plot device, but hopefully this is something a little bit different! This is dedicated to othrilis; if not for their kind encouragement, this wouldn't have been finished as fast. Please enjoy!
XOXO, Helix.
Disclaimer: I don't own National Treasure, "Eldorado", Patagonia, Deer Park, Gatorade, Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark, Crayola, or Party City.
Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.
But he grew old-
This knight so bold-
And o'er his heart a shadow
Fell, as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.
And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow-
'Shadow,' said he,
'Where can it be-
This land of Eldorado?'
'Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,'
The shade replied,-
'If you seek for Eldorado!'
"Eldorado"
by Edgar Allan Poe
Riley figures that something's up when Ben starts carrying the water bottles everywhere.
The actual idea of keeping a bottle of water handy wasn't entirely absurd. He recognized that keeping hydrated was important (and convenient, when you're looking for secret stone birds) but this...
This was something else.
It hadn't even really become a concern to him until it was already a full-blown thing: no matter the situation, or the event or the place, Ben absolutely required a water bottle of some sort in his hand.
It was like...like a glorified security blanket or something. It wasn't even a particularly special bottle of water, either; just a regular old Deer Park, usually, but it seemed to Riley that they were always brand-new. He supposed that was because they were.
He went through them as if they were packs of freaking cigarettes, and whatever it was that was going on, it had long since turned into a bizarre addiction. He always kept an insulated Patagonia backpack full of them that he carried around on his person. And soon as those ran out, he had a new, uncanny ability to instinctively know just where to find a vending machine, be it the zoo or the National Mall or wherever.
The thing that Riley found the weirdest of all though, was that Ben never, ever drank out of them.
It was like clockwork. The second the plastic stopped sweating, he would dump it out in a nearby plant, recycle it, and buy a new one, if he didn't already have one from home with him. Abigail had caught on early to his new tick, learning to keep a little red cooler full of them in their car, too, after the ones in the backpack ran out.
And if he didn't have one...
Ben became even more unbearable than Riley already thought he was.
In the best way possible, of course.
Riley did truly try to understand what was going on, though. Really. He even took it upon himself to do some research, but it got him pretty much nowhere.
And he really meant pretty much nowhere, too.
Maybe it was an absence of Ben's daring way of thinking about things that crippled his own objectivity, but no matter where he looked, he didn't find a single satisfying answer. Not satisfying enough for him, at least.
The most promising thing he found was aquaholism, or more scientifically, polydipsia, which was an irresistible urge to drink water, even if you weren't particularly thirsty. And while Riley was genuinely intrigued to learn something new, all it did was get him back to square one.
Because Ben didn't feel the need to constantly drink it, he just needed to constantly touch it.
Personally, he suspected it was some type of coping mechanism after the stresses of the hunt for Cibola. Riley wrote books, Abigail did yoga. But it didn't make sense; it was too calculated, too purposeful. It had to be something else, Riley could feel it. In fact, if anything, he would've thought that after everything that happened, he would develop a phobia. If he were Ben...he doubted he'd ever think the exact same way about water ever again. Not after almost losing Abigail at Mitch's hands in a frigid chest-high flood.
Ben doesn't talk about it, though, and Riley doesn't bring it up.
That day-the day they found out-had started out simply enough.
We would really love for you to come out and personally inspect it before its official unveiling, they'd said. We'll show you around, not that you aren't already quite personal with it, of course. And they'd laughed.
Riley was cursing them, now.
He hadn't even wanted to go-they'd already seen it so many times-but Ben had wheedled like he always did and Abigail had insisted that it wouldn't be the same without him there.
(Of course it wouldn't.)
So, he'd come with them. And to his profound disbelief, he was impressed.
After pumping out all of the water, a certifiable metropolis had been uncovered; even though the first massive cave was the apex of the discovery, archeologists had since found that it was connected to an even greater network of golden living spaces, sprawling commons, markets, and temples.
More than they had ever dreamed it would be, it was grand, and glittering, and so intensely beautiful. It seemed obvious now, to Riley, that it was no wonder the colonists never found any of the expected gold when they arrived: it had all been dedicated to building Cibola.
The lighting wasn't completely finished-something for which they were most sincerely apologized to-and instead each handed sizable flashlights for the parts that weren't decently lit. Riley personally hadn't been happy with their excuses, though. He didn't do well in dark places, no matter how hideously spacious.
Overall, they had been pretty thrilled with the outcome. Steel-reinforced stone bridges allowed for easier access than rotting log ladders or ancient games of Topple. Smooth cement sidewalks had been poured and there were strategically-placed benches interspersed between little podiums with historical factoids. Abigail had been extremely pleased to note that the restorative crews had even included railings so people wouldn't be overtly tempted to scale the temples.
(He privately thought that she was giving them too much credit, because any little kid can slip between some bars.)
It had taken a sizable chunk of time to tour the whole of it-about three hours in total, not including a short break for cheese sandwiches and Gatorade, or in Ben's case, more water.
In fact, it was alright up to the moment Abigail had asked to stay behind just a little bit longer, so she could compare literally pages of notes with Ben. Who, while searching for a Bic ink pen for her, had realized that he didn't have any water bottles left.
And such a realization incurred a transformation in him that was unlike anything the either of them had ever witnessed.
His cheerful excitement had leaped right to agitated and urgent; immediately forgetting the notes he too had taken and been otherwise eager to peruse. He'd torn all three of their backpacks apart, nearly ripping them, to search for something that they all knew (in the back of their minds, at least) had been consumed during lunch at the base of the biggest temple. This was the closest thing Riley had ever seen Ben (always calm, ever-confident Ben) to absolutely freaking out.
Riley could tell that it was starting to officially scare Abigail now, too-as unshakeable as she was, this was too much.
"You're really starting to frighten me, Ben."
"I'm fine," he reassured, and waved a hand at her. "I'd just really like to get out of here, alright? It's actually getting a little stuffy-"
She narrowed her eyes at him as well as she could in the minimal light-she clearly hadn't liked the hand-waving bit. "Benjamin Gates, don't you tell me that you're suddenly claustrophobic. You can't be-you're a diver!"
Ben snapped. "Just-Abigail, please don't argue with me on this. We've got a hotel room and keycards to the site-we can come back in the morning, I promise. But I really need to go back to the hotel."
Something in his tone must've convinced her to quickly change her mind, though, and she nodded.
"Okay," she agreed. "Alright, let's get out of here."
Riley stood up from his bench. He was glad for her change of heart. Ben's weird attitude was making him antsy.
"Thank you, for understanding," he murmured.
Abigail linked her fingers through his. "I really don't, though-oh."
Riley heard her her falter. "What? What is it?"
"Wonderful!" She exclaimed, and they all stopped in their tracks.
Both of their flashlights had died.
"Uh, I still have mine," Riley offered-then grimaced. The yellow light was a lot weaker than it had been earlier. "It won't last long, though. I think it's dying."
And then, it did so.
"Perfect," Ben muttered darkly.
Abigail frowned. His hands were cold, and sweaty. "Ben, are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine, I just gotta...gotta go think." He broke away from Abigail and paced away from them.
"So we're stuck here until they remember us?" Riley threw his head back to squint up at the wide tunnel in the ceiling. It didn't provide much significant light, either.
"No, not quite," Abigail shook her head. "We can just go out the other way, through the new exit in the drainage room."
Riley blanched. "The drainage room-?"
"No," she corrected instantly. "The bigger one, with the stone wheel and the torches."
"Okay." Riley deflated, relieved. The one where Mitch had...he shivered. It gave him the serious creeps.
"The only problem is that they haven't finished the lighting in that area. We won't be able to see our way through," she finished hesitantly. "Ben?"
"I heard."
"Can't we just...call them? Tell them to come get us out of here?"
"Won't work." His voice had disappeared around the corner of the middle temple-the sacrificial one. "There's no cell serv-crap."
They heard Ben's flashlight impact with the cement, followed by his heavy backpack.
"Ben? What's wrong?" Abigail shouted.
"Did you fall?"
"No," Ben answered tensely. "I'm alright. Don't come over here."
"And why not?" Abigail demanded.
"It's dangerous, alright?"
Something about Ben's voice sounded off to Riley. Was he lying?
No-Ben can't lie.
"I don't believe you," she declared, and she made to move around the corner when Riley caught the strap of her pack and pulled her backwards.
She whirled to face him, incredulous. "Riley-!"
He shook his head at her, hoping she'd get his message.
Don't. Something's wrong.
"Riley?"
"Yeah, Ben?"
"I need you to...help me, with something, really fast."
"Alright," Riley answered. "What is it?"
"I need you to uh...come over by me. By the corner. I'm gonna roll something to you."
"Roll something...?" Riley mumbled, blinking. "Uh, okay. Go for it."
An object puttered softly around the edge of the temple steps, and Riley knelt.
"A lemon?" Riley frowned. "Why do you have this in your backpack?
"For emergencies."
"Ben, are you joking, or-"
"No, I'm not, I promise. Just trust me."
Something else skittered across the ground. Riley picked them up. A sealed bag of hand warmers, and Ben's knife-the same one he used in the Charlotte, he was pretty sure. It was unfolded.
"What the-what do you want me to do with it?" He gulped. He loved Ben, he did, but he wasn't about to slice open the ball of his thumb for him. Well, not happily.
"Use it to cut the lemon in half."
Giving the hand warmers to Abigail, he used the floor as a cutting surface and halved it like instructed. A light, fragrant spray of lemon juice stung one of his hangnails, and he hissed.
"Okay, Ben," Abigail called. "What now?"
"I need Riley to squeeze both halves in the air directly in front of him."
"Are you serious?" She cried, finally frustrated. "Verdammt! Ben, just tell us what's going on!"
"Riley, do as I say," Ben pleaded.
Shrugging apologetically at Abigail, he reached out with a wedge in each hand, and squeezed tightly. Juice dripped noisily on the floor, but being as dark as it was, whatever the purpose was for squeezing the lemons was lost on the both of them.
"Nothing happened, Ben," Riley called out.
"I know," Ben answered. "There has to be a catalyst. Abigail, would you open up the hand warmers, please?"
"Heat, lemons..." Abigail muttered to herself. "Ben, wait. You don't seriously think that there's some sort of invisible message in here, do you?"
"That's ridiculous," he replied caustically. "Of course there isn't."
"Then what-"
"I told you, for emergencies! Just open them!"
"Fine!"
There was plasticky ripping noise, and Riley could hear the beads in the little cloth packets shifting as she warmed them up in her palms.
"Are they hot enough?" Ben asked. He sounded even less composed, now.
"Yeah, almost," she murmured. "Okay, here. They're ready, what do you want me do?"
"Hand them to Riley, he's closer to me. Riley, toss them around the slab. I'll grab them."
Riley threw the two baggies and backed away. "What now?"
"Give it a second."
Ben still didn't show himself, though. Abigail gripped Riley's shoulder anxiously.
"What's going on, Riley?" She whispered. "Do you know?"
"I don't know," he whispered back honestly.
What does any of this have to do with the water bottles?
"Promise me you won't freak out."
"We won't," Abigail lied.
"We're already all freaks, Ben, remember?" Riley joked weakly.
"Ha," Ben laughed, with even less conviction than Riley, and stepped around the edge of the temple.
It took a second to sink in.
And then Riley screamed.
"Ben!" Abigail stumbled backwards into Riley. "What in the...you-"
"-promised you wouldn't freak out," Ben finished flatly. "Screaming at me helps nothing, you know."
"But-but-" Riley gasped.
"I know-"
"But, Ben, you're glowing."
And he was. From the tips of his fingers to the tops of both his forearms, his very skin radiated a brilliant tourmaline-colored light. The amalgamation of greens, pinks, and lavender blues, with a powerful undercurrent of white, were far brighter than any of their flashlights had been, combined. It was slowly spreading up his neck.
"When-?" Abigail shook her head, shocked. "You have always been able to...to do this?"
"No!" Ben exclaimed, eyes widening. "No, not at all!"
"Are you...radioactive?" Riley asked cautiously, but shamelessly.
"No, it's harmless, I swear," he insisted. "I was suspicious, too, so I bought a Geiger Counter online. I tested it out and everything, but all it is, is light. It's just really inconvenient."
"How?"
"Well, this isn't the inconvenient part," Ben conceded gingerly.
"There's something else?"
"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck. The light had spread to his face now, making his teeth even whiter than they had been before. "I also turn invisible."
"What?" Riley laughed, then sobered. "Are you-are you actually serious?"
"You seem to be able to control it well, though," Abigail pointed out.
"I have partial control," Ben amended softly.
"Which part?" Riley asked, squinting at him. He was gradually getting used to Ben's brightness.
"The invisibility part. Whenever it's really sunny or dry outside, I disappear. It seems to include my clothes, thankfully, as some sort of chameleon response. I'm not sure why, but I don't care. I'm just glad that when I do dry up and can't fix it immediately, I'm not some floating disembodied t-shirt."
"When did this all start?"
"Right after we found the City. The first time it happened I was all alone, thank God. I, uh, didn't know what to do, so I locked myself in the bathroom the entire weekend." He frowned as if he didn't like that memory too much. "I tried everything. Willing it away, pinching myself, you name it."
"How did you...fix it?"
"I ended up taking a shower, and that's when I realized that water kept me visible. At least, until I dried completely off and I disappeared again." Ben made a face. "As far as I can tell, this is a permanent thing."
"The water bottles!" Riley yelped loudly, understanding. "Is that why you carry them around with you everywhere? You have to always touch the condensation."
"Yes, exactly," Ben praised, clearly glad that Riley had figured out.
"Shouldn't sweat keep you visible?"
"Sweating only helps so much," he said wryly.
"Why don't you use the water inside the bottles, too?"
"Because dumping a bottle of water on your hands would look suspicious, especially in public," Abigail decided. "Am I right?"
"Right," he confirmed. "Besides that, it wouldn't last long. Trust me, I researched the hell out of this. I've just now gotten the hang of it."
"How'd you know about the lemon trick?" Riley recalled wanting to ask this earlier.
"I was thinking one day, about the invisibility thing, and I remembered something you said to me, Riley."
"Me?"
"Uh-huh. The night that all of this started, the night that we stole the Declaration-"
"The night you protected the Declaration," Abigail corrected, cutting him off.
Ben paused to give her a such a warm look it made Riley really wonder why they had ever broken up in the first place.
"Yeah, uh...It was when you shut off the security cameras and replaced them with video feed of the empty hallways you had already taken, do you remember?"
"That's how you did it?" Abigail entreated accusingly.
Surprised, Ben coughed awkwardly, and Riley was pleased to see that he was still the same guy that he was before he could turn four different colors-or no color at all.
"Well, you had never told me," she said airly.
"And I was never going to tell you. Anyways, Riley. Do you remember, or not?"
"Of course I do," Riley scoffed. "I told you that you, Ben Gates, were now the Invisible Man. I wasn't being...literal, though."
"But it really got me thinking, you know? What if these new so-called powers had other catalysts? Would lemon juice and a hairdryer work, like the ink on the back of the document?"
"Obviously," Riley motioned at him.
Ben nodded. "Once I found out that worked-which scared the hell out of me, by the way-I called the Franklin Institute to borrow the spectacles and bring them back to D.C. I drove up to Philadelphia the next day to pick them up. And it was honestly just supposed to be a simple experiment."
"What happened?" Abigail asked warily.
"I nearly went blind," Ben admitted. "It turns out they maximize the output-like, exponentially so. It was like staring at the Sun. But I think if I hadn't tried out the glasses I would have never figured out how this happened to me in the first place."
"So you do know?"
"I'm pretty sure. Think of it this way-I've literally personified invisible ink. Unless I have a heat or liquid catalyst, I vanish. And the only times we've ever experienced invisible inks or dyes was with the Declaration, and...with the eagle on the Island of Stone."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Riley asked drily.
"You remember when I pulled the latch in the heart of the eagle?"
"Yeah."
"I didn't tell you, because I didn't think it mattered then, but I scratched the back of my hand on the rock. And I think that's when the ink got into my system, and caused all of...this." He motioned to himself. Muffled light shined through his collared sweater.
Riley narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
"'The entrance shall only be found under a cloudless rain,'" he quoted quietly. "So, does this mean you're the-the ink in the eagle, in this equation?"
"Essentially," Ben murmured. "Yes."
"Okay, Ben. Clearly, whatever you're saying has some degree of truth because you're, you know, doing that...and, I trust you," Abigail reasoned carefully. "But what about cloudy days? You carry a water bottle around, then, too."
"Cloudy days can always get sunnier." Ben had clearly had that answer prepared.
"Fair," Abigail mused. Then she crossed her arms. "Alright. Have you talked to Agent Sadusky about this?"
"Are you crazy?" Riley barked suddenly. "Why would he do that? They'd experiment on him-peel off his skin like the Body Snatchers or something!"
Abigail paled, probably not having thought quite as far as Riley. "I-"
"I don't think that's what would happen. C'mere," Ben wrapped Abigail up and glared at Riley over her head. About a foot taller than her, and compared to his light, she just looked like an impression of a feminine silhouette.
"You don't?"
"No, I don't. Regardless, I don't think Sadusky needs to know, anyway. Or would even really want to know. I haven't even told my parents."
"Were you ever gonna tell us?" Riley frowned.
"Yes," Ben said immediately, "I planned on telling you after Cibola's unveiling, when it was less...crazy."
"Yeah, well, so much for that," Riley rolled his eyes. "Look, man. You know I won't tell anybody-"
"Or me," Abigail concurred.
"But," he continued, "I wouldn't go telling anybody else. Keeping a secret identity can get pretty hairy."
"What?" Ben burst out. "Riley, I'm not going to be a superhero, alright? It's just something that I've gotta deal with, now."
"No, because now you won't even need me to help you break into places," Riley said flippantly. His expression seemed a little bit more closed off than before-nearly bleak. "All you'll need is a towel for water-related emergencies and you're set."
"Riley," he sighed. "I'll always need you. Okay?"
He shrugged, but he felt grateful. "Thanks, Ben."
"Besides, what if the fire alarms go off in the middle of a heist and they set off the sprinkler systems?" Ben asked casually.
"Then I guess you'd better learn how to run faster," he replied. "The way you were running from McGregor in Philly almost got you shot."
"Guess so," Ben grinned ruefully.
"Look, boys, even if you did want to keep this a secret, they're going to come looking for us, soon," Abigail reminded. "How are we gonna get you out of here, Ben?"
"Carefully," Riley snorted.
"It should wear off in about fifteen minutes or so, but I'll provide enough light to get us through the tunnels safely. And getting to the car won't be hard, either. As soon as I stop glowing, nobody will be able to see me. From the last moment I touch water, there's a dicey thirty minute-margin, but it's saved me a few times," he said. "I've also learned that the invisibility doesn't include backpacks, so-"
"I got it." Riley shouldered both of theirs. "They would notice a floating backpack, right?"
"Yeah. Should be lighter. I'm about a lemon short."
Riley smiled-he couldn't help it.
He'd known something was up.
"So, I was thinking-"
Riley hardly hesitated to cut him off. "I draw the line at the Ark of the Covenant, Ben. You saw what it did to those Nazis in Indiana Jones."
"Good thing I'm not a Nazi, then," he beamed-and watched with rapture when Riley went white.
"Are you serious? Like, actually considering...?"
Ben sat back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "It wouldn't be hard."
"That's crazy," Riley gritted.
"I remember you saying once that we made our living on 'crazy.'"
"Trust me, I'm eating my words," Riley reassured. "Jeez, Ben! I think we've made enough money in finder's fees already, don't you? I probably have enough, by myself, to buy the half the-the moon, if I wanted!"
"Are you planning to?"
Riley lunged sideways across the dining room table for Ben's shirt collar. "I'm not melting like a Crayola crayon in Death Valley for you, Ben Gates. I am not."
"Don't tell me you'd actually look at it." Ben leaned away from Riley skeptically.
"Of course he wouldn't," Abigail reassured, breezing back into the dining room with a tray loaded down with lemonade (with lots of condensation) and chocolate cake. "He'd never be that gullible."
"I don't know," Ben mused. "He fell for that one pretty easily."
Riley sat back down and glared. "At least Abigail has faith in me."
"That I do," she confirmed, and sat opposite Riley, on Ben's right.
Ben replaced his water bottle with one of the glasses and took a sip. Lemons were something of a joke for the three of them, now, and it wouldn't be long now before Ben's mouth started glowing.
"I just can't believe that you think I'd actually go after the Ark of the Covenant."
"Y'know, I dunno, Ben," Riley grumbled around a mouthful of cake. "You found El Dorado, didn't you? Why not? Go big or go home."
"You said it yourself," Ben shook his head. "We simply couldn't handle all that cash. I'd be attempted to buy the other half of the moon, and then the government would likely start to get suspicious..."
"Like they shouldn't already be? You turn invisible and glow whenever you drink a Sprite."
"I actually had some news, about that, before you interrupted me."
"What's that?"
"Well, I think that the ink wasn't just some biochemical spoof."
"What, you mean someone invented it?"
"Yes, and maybe that's the reason why nobody found Cibola sooner. The people who lived in the city knew how it worked and used it to their advantage."
Abigail became instantly swept up in Ben's enthusiastic idea-having become far less critical of him since they found out about his powers. "That would explain why they thrived for so long in that cave with minimal light. They created their own, biologically."
"How would they know about the lemon juice thing, though?" Riley asked.
"Perhaps they had some sort of other catalyst. The easy access to water ensured that in the inside of the cave, at least, they could remain visible to themselves if they wanted to be."
"So, does this make Ben's the last of his superhero-kind?"
"I suppose so, Riley," Ben frowned.
"And that technically makes you endangered, so it means every birthday counts," Riley concluded. He dug around in his jacket pocket and produced a stick of half-melted gum, lint, a double-A battery, a small gift, and his car keys. He picked out the gift and slid it across the table. "That was a fantastic conversational transition, too, if anybody cared to notice..."
"You didn't have to do that, Riley."
"He'll love it, whatever it is," Abigail smiled graciously anyway.
Riley blushed, and shrugged. "Uh, there's a note, too."
"Alright." Ben set aside his glass and accepted the little package. It was wrapped meticulously in blue and contrastingly, a torn bit of college-ruled paper was taped to the top.
He tore off the note easily and read it out-loud: "'For the man who has everything else...Happy Birthday, from Riley.'"
"That's sweet." Abigail remembered her own similar note fondly.
"I'll keep it forever," Ben laughed.
"Don't tease him!" She chided.
"I'm not," he assured seriously.
"Just unwrap it, already."
"Fine, alright." Ben tore off the blue paper and his grin fell from his face. "Oh..."
"What is it?" Abigail peered over his shoulder.
Ben held up a glossy white tube between his thumb and forefinger. It was a medically-proven brand of Ultra-Hydrating lip balm.
"I-uh, did some research," Riley spoke quickly and defensively. "It was the most powerful one I could find. You could try it out and see if it works. And if it doesn't, that's okay, but if it locks in water like it says, maybe you wouldn't have to carry around the water bottles all the time..."
But Ben was looking down, as if he was examining the properties carefully, even though the necessary information was simple enough to interpret-Riley had been sure.
Maybe he already thought of this and it didn't work, he thought.
"I have the receipt-" Riley tried. But Ben was quiet.
"Ben?" Abigail asked. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah-yeah, I'm fine," Ben cleared his throat roughly; his forehead was twisted somewhat, but then it smoothed and he gave Riley a clear, earnest look. "Thank you very much. This, uh...means a lot."
His shoulders relaxed. "You like it?"
"I do," Ben promised. "Best gift ever."
"Nah," Riley shook his head. "But maybe it'll help, y'know?"
"Let me see," Abigail pressed, and took it out of Ben's hands.
She read the label, silently mouthing the words-then comprehending.
"Oh!" Abigail gasped, before grasping his hand tightly from across the table. "That was a very thoughtful gift!"
"It was nothing," Riley maintained, but looked nevertheless pleased at their genuine reaction. "And, hey, Ben?"
"Yeah, Riley?"
"If it doesn't work, we'll just keep looking," Riley said seriously, and gave him a bright, familiar glance.
Ben gave him a lopsided purple smile-he knew.
Oh my goodness! This might actually be one of my favorite stories that I've written yet...If you're inspired to do so, please review!