I wake up with a horrible feeling in my stomach. Like I haven't eaten in days and my stomach is completely empty. I sit bolt upright, staring straight ahead. Not bothering to put on a cover up for my pajamas or brushing my hair, I race out of my tent.

I run straight for the tomb and locate Sallah, who is sort of the source of information for everyone. None of the workers look up at me, all wearing odd expressions of solemnity. I race past them to find my friend.

"Why, Pitcher Girl!" Sallah booms, "How are you today?"

"Sallah!" I grab his sleeve. "Did Indy go to the city yesterday?"

Sallah's smile vanishes in a mere second. He doesn't answer, a sign for me to freak out.

"Sallah!" I clutch his sleeve tighter, "Where did Indy go yesterday?"

"He was in his tent," Sallah doesn't meet my eyes, "Packing."

The minute I hear that word I sprint off, not making a sound. My heart is pounding louder and faster than it ever has and everything feels like it's in slow motion. I practically fly across the campsite, the bright morning sun boring into the back of my head. I run to Indy's tent and nearly rip the canvas apart in an attempt to get inside.

"Indy?" I dash inside, expecting to see him right there. Expecting to see him lying so carelessly on his cot, maybe reading a book with those silly glasses of his. He'll look up, smile at me, and say, "Sorry sweetheart, decided to sleep in extra this morning," before walking over to me and giving me a kiss.

But what I expect to see and what I do see are two completely different things.

The tent is empty, completely void of any sign that someone named Henry Jones Junior ever resided there.

"Indiana Jones?"

It has to be a trick, it has to be. Maybe he just moved tents, which would explain the packing that Sallah said he was doing. Yet the sight of the empty night-stand and blanket less cot confirm the dreadful suspicions within me.

I walk forward and sit on the cot, hardly breathing. He's gone. The truth of those words sinks into my skin, and continues to sink until I can barely feel it anymore. The emotional breakdown that I expect to come doesn't. I just feel surrounded by a cold metallic barrier. Despite the hot weather, I feel chilled.

I lie down on that cot, tucking my hands under my arm pits to keep warm. The lumpy mattress doesn't carry Indy's scent like I thought it would. It smells dead, like no one ever slept on it. I brush my fingers over the edges of it, focusing on every minute detail.

I don't know what's wrong with me, why I don't feel anything. Most girls would be hysterical, beyond sad.

But me?

I'm just.....dazed.

I mean, he's GONE.

Completely effaced from my life, and I have no proof that he was ever here, save for memory. With a quiet sigh, I let the cold wall surround me. I can't even begin to describe what is going through my head, because nothing is. The same phrase keeps repeating itself: He's gone. Indiana Jones is gone.

And he's never coming back.

I know that he might want to, and he may try. But in the end, some other archaeologist will want him to save THEIR daughter. And I'll be forgotten.

I get up and head back to my own tent, curling up under the blanket and blocking out all memory of anything. I just want to float into the darkness and never come back.

For hours, that is exactly what I do.

Drifting in and out of a surreal sleep is all I do. I can't tell which is which, being awake or asleep as I lay there facing the ceiling. It's like my ears have been stuffed with cotton and my voice has vanished.

The dinner bell rings. I stand sluggishly and walk towards the main set of tables. The rest of the workers glance warily at me and my heinous appearance. My hair is pulled up in a messy bun, I'm still wearing my night clothes, and I'm sure my face looks like that of a dead man.

I take a seat next to Oxley, across from Abner at the long table. I feel Oxley's worried look on the side of my face like burning acid but ignore it as I take a bite of some potatoes.

The murmurs of the workers begin to grow but I don't join in. My entire plate of food all tastes the same, bland and bitter.

"Marion?" Oxley asks hesitantly as I sip some water. "How is your arm feeling?"

"Fine." Comes the flat answer. I don't even feel guilty about putting it that way.

"Marion," Abner reprimands, "Harold just asked you a question, and you should show a little more enthusiasm in your answer."

"My arm is feeling fucking fine." I tell Oxley calmly. He blanches, and Abner narrows his eyes. The table goes quiet.

"Marion," Abner says in a dangerous tone, "Go to your tent for the remainder of the night after apologizing to Harold."

I look up at Abner, something dully throbbing inside my chest as I glare at him. "You know what? I don't think I will."

Abner bristles, and then stands up, "Marion, I need to talk to you."

I follow him to the main tent and he turns to me, actually bothering to look worried. "Are you alright, Marion?"

I stare blankly at him, the cold barrier around me stiffening, before replying, "Since when has my well being mattered to you?"

"You're my daughter," He retorts, "I have every right to be concerned."

I scoff, "Oh bullshit. You've never given a damn about me. I could walk and jump off the nearest cliff and I don't think you'd notice if you were in the middle of an archaeologist dig."

"That's not true." He crosses his arms over his chest in a defensive position. "Don't exaggerate, Marion."

My disbelief at him boils over and I start to walk out of the tent. I don't need this right now.

"If this is about Indy leaving, you shouldn't take your anger out at the world. It was my idea to send him to the Crossworth Dig, anyway."

The numb cold around me instantly starts to become more corrosive. I think I can actually feel my heart starting to hurt. I round on Abner, fury burning with disbelief.

"You sent him away?" My tone actually sounds like it contains emotion. "Why did you do that, Abner?"

"Indy needed other experience," My father says gently, "He got an offer that he couldn't pass up on, and I only persuaded him to take it."

I blink slowly, knowing the ice around my emotions is starting to thaw. After hours of nothing, I'm finally starting to feel something.

And that something is nothing short of anger.

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?" I scream. "You had no right to take him from me!"

From outside we can't even hear the scrape of a fork on a plate, but I don't care. I don't care about anything anymore. The whole world could have combusted and I would never notice. My father gives me an odd look, like I'm deranged or something.

"Marion," Abner's warning voice comes out, "I know that you treasured Indy as a friend, but you will see him again."

I let out a scream of derisive laughter as emotions I don't even know I am capable of spill forth. "You don't understand, Abner! You'll never ever understand!" I stomp about the tent. "How could you take him away from me?!"

"In life we have many friends that come and go." Abner says, trying to be a prophet now. "You'll find another friend like Indy soon enough."

"NO!" My voice cracks, as well as my mental stability. " You don't get it! I loved him! I loved him with every bit of love in my body, and you took him away from me!" I run up to Abner and yell in his face. "You took him away!"

It finally begins to make sense to me, the fact that I will never kiss Indiana Jones again, never get to steal his Fedora, or spend hours with him arguing over the smallest things. I'll never get to curl up on his lap when no one is looking, or have staring contests with him over breakfast. He's gone.

I grab Abner's sleeves and shake him. "I'll never see him again." I sound weaker with each word. "Never again." I lose the will to speak, and just stand there, staring at Abner.

He looks at me, completely dumbfounded. You can hear a pin drop in the room. I don't panic as much as I should about the fact that I just basically confessed my affair with Jones to my father. It doesn't matter anymore, because he's gone. Abner blinks at me furiously for a few moments, before turning and grabbing his suitcase, rummaging through it.

"C'mon Marion," He grunts, "We're leaving."

In an instant, my voice is back.

"Where?!" I scream again, "Where else in this Goddamn earth do we need to go, Abner?"

"Nepal." He answers shortly, packing up everything. "We found what we needed here. Harold is going to finish up the dig and let me know how it ends up. But our time here is up."

"Is this because of Indy?" I walk after him as he goes to his own tent. "Is this because of my feelings for him? I don't want to go to Nepal! I want to go home!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Marion." Abner spats, avoiding my gaze. "I've had enough of this. You're seventeen, you don't know what you want."

"But, dad..." My fighting spirit is dying out.

"Pack your things, Marion."

He walks out of the tent and leaves me. I follow him.

"I'm not leaving!" I scream, desperately. "I'm not going to leave. You can't make me!"

If he is to ask why I can't leave here, the answer will be simple. And I won't even hesitate to say it.

We're standing in the middle of the camp, and everyone is staring at us. Oxley is blushing and looking down, while the workers simply gape. I don't notice. I'm so mad that I'm shaking. He can't make me leave. He can't take me away from the one place where I have any memory of Indiana Jones.

"You're not in any position to make decisions!" Abner bellows. "Having an affair with one of my pupils and then screaming at me isn't going to get you anything, Marion Elena Ravenwood!"

I stand there. Realization hits me like a hammer to the nail. The anger within me is suddenly replaced with remorse, so much remorse I can barely contain myself.

"I don't want another word about this." Abner says in a deadly quiet voice. "You're going to pack your things, we're going to get on the plane and we're going to go to Nepal. Am I clear?"

I can't speak, for fear I might dissolve into sobs right there. Tears fill me up like rising oceans. I don't know what I can say, so I nod, knowing it's hopeless to say anything.

"Good, now, off you go." Abner concludes, his eyes mocking me with the same green that lies within my own.

I turn slowly, keeping it together and staring straight ahead at my tent. My foot steps seem wooden, like I'm fighting every one of them. I change my clothes once I get in there, and throw everything into my suitcase. Five minutes later, I glance around, making sure I haven't forgotten anything. The tent is bare, empty, with no sign that I have ever been in here.

And then I collapse onto my empty cot and cry.

Wow.

You guys have no idea how much it killed me to write this chapter. Ugh, I'm going to cry. Please read and review, and check for typos. But please, for those of you that will hate me for this chapter, no flames. Writing this has put me in low enough self esteem.