Work Text:
Indiana Jones was an age regressor. He was also deeply in love with Marion Ravenwood. Unfortunate how those two things would come to contradict eachother.
Indiana Jones was deep in his regression, Marion away on some sort of trip, and she wasn't supposed to return for another few days. He has his bottle full of warm milk next to him, taking a sip every so often while he plays with his toys, stacking up the blocks and watching them clatter to the floor. He giggles at the noise, clapping his hands happily. Yawning, he sorts his blocks back into their box, looking longingly at the softer baby ones he bought two days ago. No. If he grabbed those, God knows how young he'd regress, and he needs that ounce of big headspace at the edge of his head to stay there. Maybe he can play with them another time, but not now.
Pulling himself clumsily up onto the couch, he gives himself his bottle, trying to ignore the need for a caregiver and to regress even further. If Marion was here maybe–No. She'd hate him. There's no chance she'd be okay with this, considering the Indiana Jones she knew was a fully grown man, an accomplished archeologist, and a dominant person in every aspect of life. Better she didn't know and he could keep regressing in peace, even if he was a little bit lonely.
Indiana is sleeping peacefully on the couch, pacifier in his mouth when the unlatching of the door wakes him up, fear spiking through his heart and into his brain, firmly pushing away any sort of big headspace he had left.
"Indiana! Im home early! I was thinking we could go on a tr–"
Marion pauses at seeing him, mouth agape. Indiana falls off the couch, scrambling away into the corner of the living room, trying not to cry infront of the love of his life, who'll surely leave him now.
"Indiana? What the fuck!?"
Marion looks at the side table, where the empty bottle is sitting, and at the floor, where his blocks and baby books are laying.
She picks up the glass bottle, throwing it hard at the wall he's hiding against, nearly hitting him directly.
He's crying in earnest now, watching as Marion picks up his other toys, throwing them out the window and moving quickly towards him, slapping him on the face before he has the chance to protect himself.
"What sort of pedophile shit is this Indiana? God look at you! Take that stupid pacifier out now. I can't believe I ever dated you, you disgusting bitch. Have fun with your career Indiana, and hope to god you never piss me off, or it'll be ruined!"
Marion storms away to their room, grabbing a suitcase and shoving her things into it, slamming the front door as she leaves. He hears the car start. The wheels peeling on the concrete, and then silence. He feels his bladder leave him, and he's still crying with the pacifier in his mouth. He throws it away from him, curling up next to the broken pile of glass and crying himself to sleep, vowing to never be little again.