A/N: I loved Dial of Destiny, especially the final act. Here's the epilogue of Indy 5, which was understandably left out of the film, but must have happened in-universe.

I don't own Indiana Jones.

For Karen Allen and Phoebe Waller-Bridge

Marion hurried towards the grocery store, on her way to Indy's apartment. She hadn't seen her estranged husband in months, but they'd been separated for much longer periods before.

She'd come over after a call from Helena, whom she considered a surrogate daughter. Indy's back! she'd said over the phone. But he almost didn't come home! Call Sallah and the kids over - y'all need to talk to him.

Marion didn't need to be told twice. While she hadn't been planning on visiting him, she knew the call of duty when she heard it.

She was a few dozen yards from the building when a teenage stranger ran up to her. He was a wiry lad, with large eyes and curly hair.

"Excuse me!" cried the young man. "Are you Mrs. Jones?"

Marion was taken aback. How did he know her, and what did he want?

"I was," she replied apprehensively. And I might be again, she thought, depending on what - who I find in that apartment.

The young man sighed in relief. "My name's Teddy," he said, introducing himself. "Helena said you'd need help with Indy's groceries."

Marion smiled gratefully. Helena really did think of everything.

"Thank you, Teddy," she told him, gesturing towards the entrance. "Right this way."

Marion and Teddy walked up the steps to Indy's apartment, each carrying a bag full of groceries. She'd thrown in a tub of chocolate ice cream for good measure, at Teddy's insistence.

Seeing his childlike innocence, Marion's heart broke once more. He reminded her so much of Mutt at his age, and now her son was no longer with her.

She creaked open the apartment door, and was stunned by the sight that greeted her. Indy was in his pyjamas, his left shoulder bandaged underneath his clothes. He looked like he'd just gotten out of bed. Beside him, Helena sat on the sofa. It was no mystery as to who had nursed him back to health.

Health was a generous term to use, Marion thought. The man standing before her now was a far cry from the adventurer she'd known at sixteen. And yet, it wasn't the years that had worn her hero down; it was the mileage. And she knew that she herself had contributed much to that sum.

"Hey," she said at last, almost embarrassedly. It felt disrespectful to say anything more. Quietly, she went to place her newly-bought groceries on the familiar kitchen counter, with Teddy close behind her.

Her husband seemed as stunned to see her as she was to see his condition. "Marion!" he blurted out, unsure of what to think.

Marion didn't say anything; she just continued unloading groceries. Behind her, Teddy began emptying his bag onto Indy's dining table.

Indy walked over to where she was. "Marion!" he exclaimed again. "What are you doing?"

"Putting groceries away," she replied simply. "There wasn't a scrap of food in this place!"

"No," said Indy, unsatisfied with the explanation. "Really."

Marion looked away for a moment, choosing her words. "Someone told me you were back," she answered, glancing at Helena.

Indy stole a glance at his goddaughter as well, nonplussed that she'd set this all up.

Marion stared intently at him. "Are you back, Indy?"

Indy looked unsure of what to say. Maybe he didn't know the answer himself.

"…explosives!" came a nearby voice. "Indy was running, Marion was running, and suddenly, the plane exploded!"

Sallah el-Kahir waltzed in through the open door, with his grandkids in tow. He was recounting their adventures looking for the Ark of the Covenant.

The old man turned to look at the very people he'd been describing. "Indy!" he exclaimed, in pleasant surprise. "You're up and about!"

Indy smiled to see his old friend. "Yes, I am," he said warmly, finally sounding happy to be 'up and about'.

"Why don't we go and get some ice cream, kids?" said Helena, suddenly rising from her seat.

"But Marion just got some!" cried Teddy in confusion.

"I know a better place," said Helena conspiratorially.

"You can never have too much ice cream, can you?" quipped Sallah, agreeing. He shepherded his grandkids back out through the apartment door.

Helena grabbed her bag and prepared to leave. "See you later," she told Indy and Marion, winking.

The front door closed, and the pair were left alone in his apartment.

Marion turned back to her old partner. She lifted part of his striped shirt to reveal the hidden bandages. "That looks bad," she remarked with pity. "Does it hurt?"

Indy grunted painfully. "Everything hurts," he replied.

Marion winced to hear it. "I know how that feels," she sighed, recalling the dreadful day she got 'the news'.

Indy had a sense of déjà-vu, and realised that it was his turn, at last. "Well… where doesn't it hurt?" he asked her, remembering.

Marion felt the same way. "Here," she said softly, pointing to her elbow as he once had. "It doesn't hurt here."

Indy smiled, and leaned forward to give it a kiss. This was going better than he'd hoped.

Marion's smile grew larger with each passing moment. "Here," she said again, gesturing to her right shoulder.

Indy leaned forward again to kiss it, bringing his right cheek within an inch of Marion's lips. She took the opportunity to nuzzle his ear, taking in his scent once more.

Indy stepped back again, looking her full in the face. They both knew what was supposed to happen next, and he just wanted her permission to do it.

Marion nodded. She did want this.

Their lips met, and they shared a long, slow, passionate kiss. For a moment, time seemed to fade away and they were in Abner's house, the tramp steamer, their wedding altar, and everywhere they'd been, all at once.

When it finally ended, Marion gave a sigh of relief. She'd been wondering how she'd break the ice between herself and Indy, but it appeared that she'd succeeded. Now, she wanted to know what he'd been up to.

"So, is there anything you'd like to tell me?" she asked him inquisitively. "Anything I've been missing out on?"

Indy heaved a breath, coming back from the kiss. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Indiana Jones!" she huffed, clocking him gently on his good shoulder. "All these years of marriage and you still can't tell me things?"

"Didn't Helena tell you what happened?" he asked.

"All she said on the phone was," said Marion patiently, "that you almost didn't come back from your last adventure. Knowing you, there's more to the story than that. So open up - confess."

Indy sighed, thinking of how to begin. "You might wanna sit down for this," he told her finally.

"I'll make us some tea," said Marion helpfully.

Minutes later, they were both snuggled up on Indy's couch, ready to enjoy their drinks.

"So," said Indy at last, "I ran into some Nazis again."

Marion groaned. "Don't these bozos ever learn?" she said, facepalming.

"Not in 30 years," Indy observed. "It turns out NASA has been recruiting them to get us to the Moon."

"Oh, for the love of God!" exclaimed Marion, incensed. "I knew that Moon landing was too good to be true."

"Well, one of their physicists, Voller, got his hands on this artefact right here," Indy continued, picking the Antikythera up from his bedside table. Having served its purpose, it was now no more than a curiosity. "It was built by Archimedes himself, and said to point out fissures in time. Put simply, it's a time machine."

Marion put two and two together. "So he wanted to go back and save the Führer?"

"Quite the opposite, actually," Indy corrected her. "He wanted to go back and replace Hitler. Hopefully, then he and his American turncoat buddies could win the war."

"Those assh*les!" cursed Marion, leaping to her feet. She hated Nazis more than ever. "So what did you and Helena do?"

"Well, we ended up on a plane with Voller and his goons," said Indy, cutting to the chase. "We were flying towards the fissure, hoping to make it to 1939. Well, at least Voller was. I managed to make him doubt his calculations, but as it turned out, it didn't matter."

"How come?" asked Marion curiously.

Indy suddenly started chuckling. "Because there was ever only one destination programmed into this thing!" he exclaimed, pointing to the Antikythera. "Only one purpose its creator designed it for: to bring reinforcements to him and Syracuse in 214 B.C.!"

Marion was stunned by the revelation. "Are you telling me…" she said slowly, "that you, Helena and those Nazis all travelled to 200 B.C.?!"

Indy shrugged. "Told ya you wouldn't believe me."

She sat back down in a huff, a little irritated that he was right.

"So there we were," said Indy, holding out his hands picturesquely, "in the middle of a Roman siege. Historically, it could've been anywhere from 214 to 212 B.C.. The Romans' ballistae shot down our plane, but Helena and I were able to bale out in time. When we landed, who was there to greet us but Archimedes himself! He'd always been expecting visitors from the future. It was glorious!"

Marion was in awe listening to her husband's tale. He'd become more and more animated as he retold it, and for a moment, she glimpsed the man he'd been in the 1930s.

"So Archimedes had screwed those Nazis over the whole time," she said with satisfaction. "There was never any chance of travelling to 1939."

"Nope," agreed Indy, taking a sip of tea. "But neither Helena nor I knew that at first. At one point, she asked me where I'd go if I could travel through time."

"And?" asked Marion.

Indy's countenance immediately fell, and he seemed to be on the verge of tears. "I told her I'd go back to save Mutt," he whimpered, his voice cracking. "To save our son."

The mention of Mutt pierced Marion anew, and she saw clearly now how much Indy cared about the son he'd come to know so late. Mutt was just as much his son as he was hers.

"I told her that I'd beg him not to enlist," Indy continued. "To let him know he'd lose everything. And that his mother would never be the same."

Marion couldn't believe her ears. Even now, her husband was torn up about losing his son and thinking about how it affected her. Even if Indy had become a broken shell of a man and withdrawn from her emotionally, did that really justify her filing for divorce?

"I'm not sure that would've worked," she said finally.

"Why not?" asked Indy, puzzled.

Marion sighed, surprised she hadn't realised this before. "Indy, I raised Mutt for twenty years before you came along," she said. "I know our son; listening was never his strong suit."

She paused to give him a look. "He got it from his dad."

Indy grinned defensively. "No need to remind me."

"When I sent him to track you down and bring you to Peru, I specifically told him to stay in the States," Marion continued. "That it was too dangerous to come down himself."

"He didn't listen."

"Exactly!" fumed Marion. "Which makes me wonder if any amount of parental warning would've kept him out of Vietnam."

Indy was quiet. He'd never seen it that way before.

"I suppose he wanted to prove himself as a warrior," he remarked, recalling their son's fencing skill.

"Oh, good God!" cried Marion, massaging her temples regretfully. He was right. "Our Mutt was always a bit too hot-headed for his own good."

Indy pulled his wife closer to him. "Just like his mother," he whispered, smiling.

Marion blushed, resting her head on his bosom. Touché.

Indy was silent for a moment, appreciating the gesture. It'd been so long since she'd last done that.

"So why did you blame me?" he asked her.

Marion sighed again. "I screwed up," she admitted, thinking of the divorce papers. "I guess that in the moment, there was nothing else I felt I could do, and I needed my own space. To get away from it all."

She dropped her shoulders meekly. "Maybe, deep down, I was hoping I could return to a simpler time, when I was just Marion Ravenwood."

The realisation hit Indy like a ton of bricks. "You were trying to get back to the past."

The irony wasn't lost on Marion, and she broke into a mirthless laugh. "I suppose so. Just like Helena was asking you, wasn't it?"

"Actually, I almost considered staying in 214 B.C.," he confessed. "Helena tried to talk me out of it."

Marion was flabbergasted. There was no way her husband would contemplate something so stupid.

"You're kidding," she told him disbelievingly.

Indy shook his head. "I was face-to-face with Archimedes, Marion!" he exclaimed, waving his hands around. "Witnessing the Battle of Syracuse with my own eyes. I got to see ancient inventions that I had only lectured about!"

Marion was silent. That would be a tempting reason to stay, she realised.

"The only problem was, I'd been shot," Indy explained, pointing to his bandaged left shoulder. "Helena kept telling me that I needed medical attention; that medicine in 214 B.C. was woefully inadequate. I would've been dead in a few days. And yet…"

Marion released a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding. "And yet you thought there was nothing worth coming back for," she finished, kicking herself.

Indy shrugged in agreement. That was a fair way of putting it.

Marion took his face in her hands, forcing him to look her in the eye. She'd known from Helena's tone that things were bad, but she had no idea they were this bad.

"Indy," she told him firmly, "look at me. I'm sorry that I made you feel this way. I never dreamed that I'd put you in a position where leaving the world entirely seemed like a good idea."

Indy shook his head. "It wasn't your fault, Marion."

"Yes, it was," insisted Marion. "Remember the time you drank the Blood of Kali?"

Indy chuckled. "I totally lost my mind," he recalled.

"Exactly," Marion told him. "This is no different. You were so consumed with the grief of losing Mutt and losing me that you were no longer thinking straight. Thank Heaven Helena had the sense to drag you back here against your will."

Indy paused. He hadn't realised that.

"Would you really have chosen to stay with Archimedes if you knew I was here waiting for you?" she asked him pointedly.

Indy didn't say anything, only staring dumbfoundedly at her.

Marion gave him a look, and he understood its meaning well. Don't you dare say that you'd have picked Archimedes over me, Indiana Jones!

Indy broke into a laugh, more at himself than at anything else. His wife's trademark temper had a way of bringing him back to Earth.

"Archimedes - screw that guy!" he said with resolve. "My history is with you. Whatever time I have left on this planet, I swear, I'm gonna spend it all with you. No more running away. No more excuses."

Marion pulled him in for another kiss. It'd been so long she'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Speaking of screws," she told him coyly, "I think I know something else that needs fixing."

Indy rolled his eyes, as he led his bride towards their nuptial chamber. He was glad Helena had brought the kids out for ice cream.

"And bring the hat!" said Marion, having not seen him wear it in years.

Indy obliged, reaching out the window and grabbing the fedora off the clothesline. Their marriage was on the mend.

Archimedes cradled the small, futuristic device in his hands. What a boon the gods had bestowed upon him and the good people of Syracuse.

It'd taken a single day for the famed inventor to deduce the object's purpose. The twelve markings on its face corresponded to the twelve hours in the day and the twelve hours of the night - it was a miniature timekeeping device! Two thousand years from now, men would be wearing these items on their wrists to help them tell time.

The Sicilian rubbed his hands in elation. The Antikythera Dial he'd been working on had been a success, and he hadn't even finished it! But he now knew that he would finish it, thanks to the time afforded him by those strangers from the future. And he had a new source of inspiration to improve his design.

What else did the future have in store? The old man and the young woman he'd spoken to had arrived in a large winged vehicle and left in a smaller, similar vehicle. After striking the elderly man unconscious, the maiden had reluctantly told him that the vehicle was called an 'aeroplanos' - that which wanders through the air.

Archimedes could think of no better name. His fellow Syracusans had taken the larger, destroyed aeroplanos to be a dragon, but Archimedes knew better: it was a hyper-advanced flying machine, built upon the work of Daedalus and Icarus.

Had it caught fire after flying too close to the sun? In any case, the old man's haggard features reminded him of Daedalus, weeping for his lost son.

Every day, he walked out to the wreck site to admire its craftsmanship. The aeroplanos appeared to be made entirely of iron; it was a miracle that it'd been able to fly at all. Curiously, its wings did not seem designed to flap, but the bladed structures mounted atop them bore a suspicious resemblance to his water screws.

The old inventor strove to make as many sketches of the aeroplanos as possible. His fellow citizens were scavenging more and more of the iron wreckage each day; soon, he'd have nothing left to study.

Still, Archimedes took solace knowing that in two thousand years, flying iron aeroplanoi would exist. He also knew that people would still speak Greek, though they also spoke a barbarous language he didn't understand. That young lady even had the same name as the beauty who'd launched a thousand ships! This, at least, proved that king Alexander's efforts to Hellenise the world would be successful.

Archimedes looked at the precious timepiece he now wore continually on his wrist. Based on his experience with it, he saw that he had an hour left till sunset. It was time for him to be going home.

There was, however, one feature of the device which troubled him. Why did the hour markings on its face happen to be Roman numerals?

THE END.

Arise, O Lord, into Thy rest; Thou, and the Ark of Thine holiness.

Thy priests shall clothe themselves with righteousness; and Thy saints shall exult.

There will I cause to spring up a horn to David: I have prepared a lamp for Mine anointed.

(Psalm 132:8-9,17 LXX)