Chapter 1- Runaway
Mutt let the screen door slam behind him as he stormed out. He strode across the front lawn to the garage, finding the door already open, and striding over to where his motorcycle, recovered from that god-forsaken cemetery, was parked. Kicking the stand up, he revved it, before shooting off down the drive way, and speeding down the street. Tears of fury, anger, and pain rolled down his cheeks, blurring his vision as he fled the house. He turned blindly around a corner, barely avoiding being hit by a car, before speeding off again. He didn't care anymore, he didn't give a damn.
'Just like my father,' he found himself thinking, before changing direction again. No, he would NOT be like his father. His father was, in Mutts opinion, a bastard who would take nobodies ideas but his own into consideration.
Mutt had dealt with it for long enough, agreeing to go to school, keeping his grades up, limiting how often he went for a ride on his bike, pretending to be everything that he wasn't just so his father would be proud of him, but no.
Everything Mutt did wasn't good enough for Indiana Jones. For the last eight months, every report card, and assignment result, had gone ignored, while every little thing that Mutt did wrong warranted him being dragged to his father's office, and lectured.
Mutt was dimly aware that he was heading out of town, but he didn't care, as long as he got away, far away, from the toxic environment of his house. It had been a long time coming, really. For the last month or two, Mutt and Indiana had been clashing more that they had previously, and Mutt had gone off before, but he'd always gone back home by nightfall.
'Not this time' Mutt gritted his teeth. After the last fight, he'd gone to his room and blocked the door, and Indiana had, presumably gone back to his work. After half an hour, Indian had got up, got into the car and left, and Mutt had emerged, packed bag in hand, and left the house, for good.
Mutt took another turn, getting onto the highway. Sure, his mother would be upset at first, but dear old Indy would help her get over it. Besides, he was pretty sure that she was sick of their fighting. He increased his speed, his desire to get away over powering his common sense.
'Why wasn't I good enough' Mutt couldn't help himself asking himself.
IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ
Indiana Jones sat silently in his study, pretending to be marking his student's assignments, but in reality, he was thinking about his son. Indiana knew that they'd been fighting a lot lately, more than they had before. He didn't know why, but the kid just seemed to be doing a lot of stupid things lately, like when he'd got in a fight with a gang at school, or when he'd been brought home drunk by the police. Indiana scowled at that particular memory.
It wasn't as if the kid wasn't smart, the result's he'd been getting since his return to school were a testament to that fact, but when he kept pulling those stunts, putting his life in danger, it both scared Indy, and made him angry.
The reason for these mixed emotions, Indy knew, was because he loved his son, and he'd rather die than see something bad happen to his son. Indy knew Mutt was trying so hard to be a good son for him and Marion, especially compared with what he was like before the whole incident with the Russians and the Crystal Skull (judging from what Marion had told him,) and he was so proud of his son for trying so hard, but Indy knew Mutt knew about this, his son already knew, didn't he? Indy suddenly questioned that belief. What if he didn't? Before he really knew it, he was at Mutt's bedroom door. Taking a deep breath, he knocked.
No Response. Scowling, Indiana knocked again. Still no response. Now slightly worried, Indy turned the handle, relieved when the door opened easily. He looked around the room, his scowl deepening.
No response. The bed wan unmade, and Mutts textbooks from school were spread out on his desk. Indiana looked around the room, noticing how Mutt's jacket, and a few other pieces of clothing were missing. Indy raced down the stairs, across the yard and into the garage. Just as he feared, the motorcycle was gone.
Returning to his son's bedroom, Indiana spotted, out of the corner of his eye, two envelopes, resting on top of one of the heavy text books. Indiana stepped closer to them, dread gnawing at his heart. One of the letters was labeled 'Mum', and the other, 'Dad,' both in Mutt's untidy handwriting. Indiana picked up the one addressed to him and opened it, pulling a single piece of paper out.
I'm Sorry that I wasn't able to live up to your expectations. I'm not a good son, I never have been, and I'm really sorry about that. Thanks for taking me in, even though I caused so munch trouble for you. You don't have to worry about me causing trouble for you again. I'm on my own, and I can handle it I'm sorry I haven't finished school, I tried, but I'm never going to be a scholar like you
Please look after mum for me; she's going to need it with me gone. It isn't her fault, or yours. It's all mine. I have to go now; I hope you have a nice future.
Mutt (Henry Jones III)
Indiana sniffed, wiping tears from his eyes. He sat down, heavily, on the bed, his head bowed. Mutt was gone, for good. Indiana had driven his own son away, just like his own father had. He sobbed, and he couldn't stop the tears this time. He didn't notice the front door open, or Marion's calls, until he realized she was at the bedroom door
"Indy, what's wrong, where is Mutt?"
Indiana sobbed, and pointed at the desk, where Marion's letter waited. She slid it open, reading the note with widening eyes.
"Indy? He's gone. When?"
"I had to go to the shops this afternoon; I think he slipped out when I was gone. We had another argument,"
"Oh, Indy. He'll come back, Indy, he always does."
"Not this time, we said some really awful things, Marion. He was so upset. I basically called him a no-hoper, a failure. It's my fault he's gone."
"Indy, Mutt's got a good head on his shoulders, he'll come back, or he'll go somewhere where he knows he'll be safe. Have you rung Ox?"
"That's a good idea" Indiana got up and hurried to the phone, dialing in Ox's number. It rang a few times, before a familiar voice answered.
"Ox, it me, Indy."
"Indy, what's wrong? Is it Marion?"
"No, its Mutt, have you seen him?"
"Not since yesterday when he popped in on his way home from School."
"Did he say anything," Indy paused, "unusual?"
"No, but he was a bit upset about something, he kept rambling on about how he wasn't good enough, he wasn't making much sense. He told me that he wanted to get away, but he has often said that in the last few weeks."
"Did he say where he wanted to get away to?" Indy asked, panic re-entering his voice.
"Out of town, I gathered. Why?"
"Mutt's missing. He's taken a bag of clothes, and I don't know where he's gone. He left Marion and I letters."
"Check all the main routes heading out of town. Knowing him, he would've taken the bike, so just ask if there's been a speeding motorcycle go past"
"Good thinking Ox, keep in touch if he turns up." Indy hung up and fetched his jacket. He went back into Mutt's room, where Marion was still sitting; tears had begun to roll down her cheeks.
"What if he's got himself hurt? What if he's been in a accident? He's too young to die, Indy" she sobbed, and Indiana hugged her.
"He'll be okay; he knows how to look after himself and that bike of his" Indy soothed, running his hands through her hair, "I'll find him, don't worry, I'll bring him home."
"Go, go find my baby boy back" Marion pushed him away from her. Indy turned and ran down the stairs, throwing the front door open and leaping into the driver's seat of his car. Backing out of the driveway, he accelerated, shooting off down the street. Marion watched as he sped of, "Find him, find our son" she whispered, before closing the front door quietly.
IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ
Mutt was still fuming in Anger as he drove along the highway. He was sure that his disappearance would have been noticed by now, and the two letters he had written discovered. Urged on by the thought, he accelerated, noticing too late the large truck heading in his direction. Realizing the danger, Mutt swerved out of the way, but the front of the truck still clipped the motorcycle's back wheel, causing it to spin out of control, falling to the hard road surface, and skid into the roadside ditch. Mutt was knocked off by the impact, and skidded along the road surface, before rolling a few times in the gravel ditch and finally coming to a standstill, lying, motionless, in the ditch, blood pooling on the gravel around him.