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INDIANA JONES
lxii. AFTERMATH

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DEATH WAS ALWAYS A concept that intrigued Indiana Jones.

As a matter of fact, Indiana Jones liked hurting people. She never discriminated, never picking by gender, sex, color, or species. She hurt only those who deserved it most. The strange thing about it was that Indiana truthfully enjoyed it. She got off on it. She found pleasure in doing such a horrid act.

It's like when you hear serial killers say they feel no regret or remorse for all those people they killed. Indiana Jones was like that. She didn't care how long it took either because she was never in a hurry. Time never mattered. She would wait until they were totally in love with her... until their big, saucer eyes were looking at her. Indiana loved the shock on their faces, the glaze in their eyes as they tried to hide how much Indiana was hurting them.

"I think I killed them," Indiana once said to her big brother, who at the time had been keeping the biggest part about their relationship a secret. "Their souls, I mean. It was their souls I was after. I know I came close a couple of times. But don't worry. I got my comeuppance. That's why I'm telling you this. Justice was done. Balance has been restored."

Of course, Killian Jones never understood what the girl was saying at the time. She was a killer, a cold-blooded serial killer who cared for only a small pool of people. Indiana Jones carried the guilt of her crimes around for years. She could hardly look people in the eye until she met Killian, who showed her that she could still live a normal life even after doing all sorts of crazy things, having all sorts of insane adventures.

Indiana Jones never actually gave it thought--how she would die. She never sat down and really thought about it, not after learning how to protect herself.

Despite being in the most excruciating pain she'd ever experienced in her entire life, Indiana Jones would describe death as a peaceful sensation. It was almost like standing on a sandy shoreline, watching the sunrise and listening to waves roar lowly. It was like walking through the woods while birds chirped an unrecognizable tune. Indiana would have found herself wondering if her victims had witnessed the same feeling. She would have been wondering this if she weren't so busy thinking about how the girl who had escaped death many times had finally died.

Indiana Jones was dead.

One thing Indiana found herself wonder often before her death was how life would be if she never existed, if she randomly died or disappeared. How would things change?

She didn't know it then, but things were going to be different.

After returning to Storybrooke due to the Wicked Witch's curse, Killian Jones would be juggling a blossoming relationship with Emma Swan and the burden that both his baby sister and his brother had died right in front of him and he could do absolutely nothing about it.

Peter Pan would have to deal with the nightmares he got, each one being the same. Each nightmare was about his true love dying in his arms. Now, he lived in his own apartment with pictures of Indiana all over the place and all of her belongings boxed up in a closet. Peter was no longer in Neverland or the Enchanted Forest. This was Storybrooke--a land he hardly understood. Although the others didn't trust Peter all that much, they knew he was going to try his best to fill the hole that Indiana left in their hearts.

Wherever Snow White, Red Lucas, and David Nolan looked, they would just see all of the memories they shared with the practically invincible teenager. Each time they had a conversation with someone, they would wait for someone to bust out with a bad joke or sarcastic comment. Now, there was just a silence that no one knew how to fill. Indiana was good at that--filling the dead silence.

Every time Henry Mills went to bed, he would always look to the door, expecting to see his Nanny waiting to turn off the lights and tell him that she loved him more than he loved comic books. Instead, there would just be an empty space that just didn't seem right at all. And Regina Mills could tell. Even the Evil Queen, who hardly liked Indiana, missed her, even if it was just a little bit.

Now that Rumplestiltskin had died (no thanks to Peter Pan angrily stabbing him) and come back to life, he couldn't help but feel the guilt that filled his body whenever Indiana Jones came up in conversation or in thought. "Serves him right. He should feel guilty," Rumplestiltskin could practically hear Indiana say, "he's an ugly Alligator anyway."

"Let me a die a hero."

Those were the words that haunted the people of Storybrooke. Indiana Jones died so that no one else had to. That made her a hero, right? Indiana hardly knew what being a hero meant, yet she still believed that she went down as a hero in the end. Did that mean it was a happy ending? After all, Indiana died with the people she loved and cared about the most. That has to mean it was a happy ending, right?

What a lot of people don't know about death is that even though your life is over, doesn't mean the adventure is over. Remember all of those regrets you had? All of those things you forgot to do, all of those things you never got to do? Do you remember all of them? All of your unfinished business? Death isn't the end of a life. It's a new beginning.

And Indiana Jones had to learn that the hard way. How was she supposed to know in advance anyway? She'd never died before, after all. Not until now.

Not until she woke up in a red-hued world.

A temperate breeze fluffed a tall brunette's hair. Decayed leaves danced around her feet, scraping against each other as she strolled into a town that made her feel extremely nostalgic. It reminded her of a past life, a life that ended too abruptly. Instead of blue skies and sunshine, the world she found herself existing in had a red-hue to everything, including herself.

Deeply inhaling the scent of the new world, Indiana Jones crinkled her nose up with dislike. The world smelled like a Cemetery. Dead. Rotten. Decayed. She didn't like it. Indiana might have slaughtered people, but she never stayed around to witness the nauseating aroma of death.

"Well, someone clearly doesn't like the refreshing smell of death and decay," a male's voice addressed behind Indiana Jones. Sarcasm dripped off of his voice like rainwater on a leaf.

Rather surprised at the sudden greeting, Indiana turned around to see an older man with blond hair and a devious expression in his face. "Where am I...?" Indiana trailed off. "This place looks a lot like... but I'm dead, aren't I?"

"You catch on quickly," the man sarcastically mentioned, causing Indiana to narrow her eyes at him. When she didn't react any other way, he sighed. "Yes, you're dead. Congrats."

"Er, thanks?"

"Don't mention it. I'm Hades, God of the Underworld," the man introduced. This caused Indiana to snort with amusement as she laughed.

"You? Hades? As in, fiery-blue-hair-Hades?" she questioned. "Yeah, and I'm—"

"The Toothfairy?" Hades interrupted. Indiana raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth to ask how exactly he knew that she was going to say that. "You're probably wondering how I knew you were going to say that. Thing is, I'm the God of the Underworld. Therefore, I make it my job to know everything about everyone who enters my realm."

"I believe the police call that stalking," Indiana deadpanned with an unimpressed look on her face. She folded her arms over her chest.

"Oh, speaking of the police! You're going to love our Sheriff here in Storybrooke," Hades mentioned. Before Indiana could say anything about his words, he continued to speak. He walked circles around her while speaking. "Anyways, back to what I was saying. Like many of the other Gods, we like to pick favorites—people that we like just a little bit more than the rest. It just so happens that you happen to be one of my favorite characters in the fairytale books and real life. Talk about luck, right? Artemis is going to be so jealous—"

"Do you always talk this much?" Indiana wondered, pinching the bridge of her nose. "No offense. I'm flattered and all, but I don't understand what the point of this greeting is. I'm sure you don't do this to everyone who ends up here, right?"

"Correct," Hades confirmed. "As I said before, I'm only here because you're my favorite."

Indiana furrowed her eyebrows together. "What are you—some kind of fanboy?" Indiana questioned. She sighed. "If only Peter or Killian were here..."

"Ah, your boyfriend and brother," Hades recalled. "I'm sure they'll come for you soon."

Indiana perked her ears up. "What's that supposed to mean? You actually think they're coming for me?" she wondered in amusement. She scoffed with a bittersweet smile on her face. "If anything, everyone's lives back in Storybrooke are going to change for the better. They don't need me causing havoc. I don't know if you recall, but part of the reason Peter kidnapped Henry was because he wanted to see me again. None of this," Indiana paused to refer to her dead self, "would have happened if it weren't for me."

"Hm... well, because I'm a fan of plot twists, how about a deal?" Hades queried, stopping to sit down on a park bench. She raised an eyebrow. "Ah, now I see I've gotten your attention."

"Yeah, I'm listening. You have 5 seconds before I walk away," Indiana monotonically declared.

"Perfect. I believe your friends will come here. Maybe not for you, but they'll end up trying to bring you back to life," Hades proposed.

"That's an intriguing proposition, but I don't find it very realistic," Indiana opinionated.

"Do we have a bet?" Hades wondered.

"What exactly do you get out of this? I'm sure there's nothing you're interested in winning—not like there's anything I could give you. Unless you really are a fanboy and you want a strand of my hair or something."

Hades shrugged and said, "I'm merely just a fan of the famous tale of Indiana Jones. If I win, I'll bring you to life. If I lose, I'll leave you alone... forever."

Indiana shrugged. "Sure, whatever, big guy," Indiana brushed off, immediately thinking Hades was extremely weird and kind of creepy. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go figure out how many people I killed are here." Indiana turned and proceeded to walk away. "It was delightful meeting you."

"No it wasn't."

Indiana stopped walking. "You know what?" She over her shoulder, smirking. "You're right."

Then, Indiana Jones strolled off, preparing to begin her new life as a dead woman.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

HAHA DID YALL REALLY THINK I WAS GONNA END IT THERE

DID YOU REALLY

LOL

ANYWAYS indie's in the underworld! what do we think is gonna happen!?

((((also side note, parts of the beginning of this chapter were inspired by the confessions of an oxygen thief :-))))))