Celebwen Telcontar: This chapter deals with how Ian manages to deal with the Charlotte incident. it will explain a lot of his actions in the movie as well.
Balrog: How so?
Celebwen Telcontar: You'll just have to find out on your own, won't you? By the way, I own nothing, save Martha and the Chandlers. I don't even own the family song; that's either the Byrds or the Bibles. Or both.
Ian held on as the vehicle bounced and rollicked over the icy landscape. He zipped up his parka a little farther, and kept Martha's face in his mind. Right now, he could hear everything, but was emotionally detached, as if he were watching a video of his own life. He went into his memories of his beautiful Tolkienist of a wife, and time passed without his memory storing it away. The next instant, he was looking at a massive ship imbedded in the ice. The party climbed on the deck, and walked down.
He saw a mummified deck hand, frozen in time, literally, and would have recoiled, but something was keeping him from feeling anything. Like Zechariahs said before he had departed, he seemed to have two personalities, the kind and loving one that was present around Martha, and the sociopath that would stop at nothing created by the cancer. Now his conscious mind was only along for the ride while the sociopath did whatever it wanted to do.
He saw barrels of gunpowder, and someone said that the treasure had to be in one of the barrels. He began methodically ripping them apart, but came up empty handed.
"The Captain was guarding this particular barrel. He had to have a reason..." Ben commented. He pried the dead man's fingers from his musket, and opened the barrel. He tipped it to the side, and found a pipe.
"What is it?" Riley asked. "Is it a... million dollar pipe?" Ian's heart began to pound. Was it a clue? Ben sliced his own finger, and broke the pipe. Riley cried out in disbelief. Ben then smeared the blood on the stem of the pipe, and rolled it on a piece of paper. He muttered for some time then said that the next clue was on the back of the Declaration of Independence. The sociopath within Ian seemed to roar with frustration.
AN: This is an argument between Ian and the sociopath. ... sociopath, ... Ian
Would it really be so hard to get?
Of course it would! Do you know just how much is guarding that thing!
If you were to use the right methods, it's a walk in the park.
And what do you plan to do with it once you get it?
Heat activates invisible writing.
Use a hair dryer! Where! In a bloody lorry!
Use your head, git! In a house, or maybe a warehouse!
Git yourself. I couldn't steal the Declaration of Independance! It's just wrong!
And letting Martha die because you were too bloody chicken to get the treasure is any better!
You bloody bastard!
Think about it. No Declaration of Independence, no treasure. No treasure, and the bills don't get paid. Bills don't get paid, and Martha's unplugged. not to mention that the cancer patients of the world don't get that money. People die of cancer left right and center, Ian. Elizabeth and Zechariahs would pull all stops to the cancer, if that meant to steal the Declaration of Independence or the Liberty Bell itself then so be it.
You bloody bastard.
So?
I'll do it.
I knew you'd see things my way, if given the right incentive.
End of argument
"I can get it." the sociopath said to Ben's lack of faith.
"How?"
"I have my ways." At that moment, Ian's memory failed him.
He "woke up" in the arctic vehicle, the ship a smoldering ruin behind him.
Begining of a second argument
What in God's name did you do! Ian roared at the sociopath.
I blew Ben and Riley up. They weren't needed.
You bloody son of a bitch!
Ha. They would have stopped you from getting the money for Martha.
You committed cold-blooded murder with my body!
Your body fits me like a glove. It performed very nicely, Ian.
You had better find a way to tell the authorities this and make it all your fault. I didn't want to commit cold-blooded murder, you bloody monster!
So what if I'm as cold-blooded as a lizard? It's your own fault.
How do you see that, Sociopath?
You created me. With your love for Martha, you gave me life.
I did not create you. You are a twisted malformation of my want for the treasure. I would never do what you do.
So? I'm part of your personality, Ian. If I feel as if you will stop me from doing what I feel necessary, then I will block you from our mind, like I did before.
You... you... there are no words for your madness.
No curse in Entish, Elvish, or the tongues of Men for what I have done? My, my, you're sounding like Treebeard now!
Do you always sound like a cross between Sauron and Saruman!
Put it that way, will you? Well, now you are going to go back to America, and we will steal the Declaration of Independence.
Are you always like the Dark Side of Smeagol!
Go to sleep. I'll take over.
I'll stay awake, thank you very much.
Okay then, stay awake and brood over the death of Benjamin Franklin Gates.
Could Ben have survived?
No. End of discussion.
Bastard.
I know.
End of Argument #2
For the next few days, Ian was a side presence in the Sociopath's mind. He watched as the evil personality put all of Ian's recourses to work, and found a way to steal the document. The Chandlers and Martha called quite a few times, but the Sociopath let Ian take over then, threatening him with taking him over and doing something unspeakable to the family or even the president.
The day of the theft came. The sociopath, taking Ian over, crawled through the tunnels, killed a guard, and used his fingerprint to get in. Then, he ran through the hallways, and saw someone struggling with the case for the Declaration of Independence, the document inside of it. Sociopath recoiled with shock as Ian realized that it was Benjamin Gates. Then, before Ian could take over and kill his own men and get the document back in the cleaning room, the sociopath took over again, and shot at Ben. The should-have-been-dead man shielded himself with the casing, and managed to get into an elevator and shut the doors before Sociopath could attack and kill for real this time. Inside, Ian was cheering that Sociopath didn't get the document, but he was fuming that he couldn't get the map for the treasure. Grumbling to himself, he mentally sat back to watch what Sociopath would do now.
How in the bloody hell did he survive! Sociopath roared in his rage.
Don't ask me. I don't know how he did. Maybe he's the reincarnation of Beren. Beren was raised to life after he died trying to get the Silmaril for Thingol.
Or maybe you need to shut up.
You asked, Soch.
Soch?
The name's kinda cute, if you ask me.
Eh...eh...eh...
(Ian mentally cracks up.)
The Sociopath, still struggling for words, was indignantly trying to get back in control, as Ian stood there, laughing. His men looked at him as if he was from Mars. Then, he made his way back to the truck, the Sociopath wresting control from him halfway there. When a woman with whatlooked like the Declaration in her bag ran over, the Sociopath took her, took the declaration, and the woman managed to get into Ben's car.
Okay, let's take a look at this thing!
Is that a price tag? Oh, Ben, you're a genius.
He's a bloody nuisance!
Don't you mean a menace? Calling him a nuisance is giving him too much of a childish image.
Don't you ever shut up!
No.
Okay then. That's it. I give up. No more treasure hunting. No more finding Martha's cure. No more cancer research. I quit.
I wasn't against the treasure hunting, just against the theft and murder! Get your bloody ass back here now, or else!
Or else what, pretty boy?
I... I'll suicide. I know you can't survive without my body, so I'll suicide, if you don't help me. I can't live without Martha in any case.
You bloody, no-good, double-crossing bastard! Sociopath roared in exasperation.
The sociopath took over again, and drove to Ben's father's house, where he found the man duck taped to a chair, and grumbling.
The days passed with agonizing slowness as Ian and the Sociopath worked together to find the treasure. Finally, the waiting paid off when Abigail, Ben's girlfriend, called to say that they would give him the treasure if he helped them find it. He knew it was a trick, but he was going to pull out all of the stops right now to find the gold and hand it over to the American Cancer Society.
Finally, he made his way to the Trinity Church, where he found the tomb and hammered it in. He was passed recoiling when the coffin was dragged out, and he was about to force Ben to go in when he heard a cry from the top of the stairs.
"Ian!" A woman was flying down them, her black wig streaking behind her. Her face was hollow and pale, her eyes sunken. Her clothes hung to her like rags, and she had used makeup heavily to keep at least a semblance of life and not like a walking corpse. She ran into his arms, and kissed him soundly. "They gave me six months at the outside. They couldn't do anything more," she said gravely.
Celebwen Telcontar: Okay, that was the second to the last chapter. I hope you liked it.
Balrog: What did she mean, six months at the outside?
Celebwen Telcontar: She has six months to live. No more, but probably less.
Balrog: You're kidding, right? You deal in happy endings, not depressing ones!
Celebwen Telcontar: I believe in the ancient Greek practice of purging your soul of impurities by completely allowing your emotions to take over, and either crying or laughing yourself to where you can hardly breathe. It feels good to do, and I believe this next chapter is one of those.
Balrog: What? Some kind of homeopathy?
Celebwen Telcontar: Just read.