For a hero's strength is measured by his heart
Like a shooting star
I can go the distance
I will search the world
I will face it's harms
I don't care how far
I can go the distance
Till I find my hero's welcome
Waiting in your arms
Everything had changed and in a matter of days. Indiana Jones had gone from hating his father and feeling unimportant to understanding his father's obsession and even trying to help him obtain it.
But it had all happened so quickly...
Indy glanced around the camp to ensure that everyone was still asleep. Marcus was snoring softly, Sallah curled up next to the fire, and Henry lying perfectly still, his hat over his eyes.
Tossing another log onto the fire, Indy reflected on how he had made such an emotional turnaround the past few days...
He and his father had never really been close... His father forcing him to learn things he didn't care about - like ancient Greek - and always seeming to be professor and grail pursuer first, father and husband second. Indy had always assumed his mother, Anna, had felt the same way; he never really knew for sure. She died before Indy got a chance to ask her.
His mother's death only served to drive his father and him even further apart, Henry delving deeper into the Grail legend and Indy avoiding his father's disproving gaze as often as he could.
And things just never got better.
Until yesterday. When they both nearly experienced death. Indy with a tank and a cliff, Henry with a bullet.
It had made father and son realize they couldn't live without each other. That their world was in the other and little mattered outside it.
Indiana had never been one to back down from a challenge: eager to prove himself to anyone and everyone, Indy always succeeded. He wouldn't take no or failure as an answer and easily secured a reputation for himself. One that people relied on and expected nothing but success. And Indy delivered. Always.
Yet, somehow, he'd never been fully pleased with his efforts. As a teacher, he knew he couldn't compare. Many of the students took his class as something that would be fun or interesting; or in the case of the females, to have a handsome professor to stare at every day.
As an archaeologist, he'd found some interesting finds, sure. But he was never pleased, always asking Marcus if he had another artifact for him to find or researching long lost civilizations he could excavate... And he'd kept himself so busy he hadn't realized he had never been happy.
Until yesterday. When he allowed himself to slow down and enjoy the moment.
In his father's arms.
Henry had never been one to show affection. Ever. But he had yesterday after the tank incident. After he thought he'd lost his only child.
"I thought I'd lost you, boy."
"I thought you had too, sir."
So many meanings in a simple phrase. And Indy was able to feel his happiness coursing through his veins as he was held by his father for the first time that he could remember.
Safe. Secure. Content.
In his father's arms.
Who knew that such a simple action could be so comforting?
Suddenly, Henry stirred and sat up slowly, pushing his hat back on his head. Indiana shook himself, taking in his surroundings. The sun was starting to rise above the horizon; Indy had been up all night, keeping watch. He'd been sitting for so long, lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed the passage of time.
Indy glanced back at his father, wondering if yesterday's events would be recognized or forgotten. Where did the Jones men stand now?
Henry looked around him as he rubbed the sleep off his face. When he saw his son awake and gazing inquisitively at him, Henry smiled slightly.
"Good morning, Ju-" he paused and cleared his throat. "Good morning, Indiana."
Indy returned a smile and responded, "Morning, Dad."
Now he knew. No matter what happened, no matter what he went through, his father would be waiting for him. To return from whatever adventure he went on. Eagerly anticipating to enfold him in his arms once more.