Laciona, Greece, 1941

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"SIR!" Sparky had called over the sudden rise in panic. 

Oh my God, no, Dad, c'mon...

Sparky was fairly embarrassed at the bar fight that his adoptive father had brought up. He saw Gianna rise from her seat, grabbing the bottle of wine that sat in front of them.

"GIA!" He called.

"It's a fight, Spítha!" Gianna grinned at Sparky with a crazed look in her eyes, "We've got to help your father!"

"GIA- Oh, God..." Sparky leaped over the table as Gianna smashed her wine bottle on the head of the Nazi that his father had punched. Immediately, more of those Germans bursted through the doors and began whacking people on the heads with their pathetic sticks that Indiana broke with a simple smash.

There was one thing on Sparky's mind, though: Where the hell is Marcus?!

That was when he saw the gray-haired man struggling against the Nazi's grip as they attempted to drag him outside. Sparky rushed to him.

"MARCUS!" He shouted, tugging him back into the bar.

"Es ist der Junge!" The Nazi called. Sparky couldn't tell what he was saying, as he didn't speak German.

Frightened, still, Sparky kicked the Nazi in the shins and practically pushed Marcus into a less-fighty crowd.

"Spítha!" Gianna's voice could be heard amongst the smashed wine bottles and punched heads.

"IN A MINUTE, GIA!" Sparky hollered.

"Spítha!"

"GIA!" Sparky turned to Marcus, who immediately went "DENNIS!"

He followed Marcus's gaze to see his father being held back, held against the walls by multiple probably disguised Nazis as they put a pan pipe to his forehead. Sparky immediately recognized the specimen as the Pipe of Wit.

"Spítha!" Gianna repeated, grabbing a wine bottle, and Sparky by the sleeve.

"Leisten Sie keinen Widerstand, Mr. Jones!"

"I WISH I SPOKE GERMAN!" Sparky yelped.

"HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL?" Gianna shot back, "DO SOMETHING, SPITHA!"

That was when a German spoke something in Greek, "Ένας εγκέφαλος, ένας εγκέφαλος πολύτιμος για να τον κρατήσουμε!"

A brain, a brain too valuable to keep!

At least Sparky could understand words in Greek.

Gray mist began billowing from Indiana's ears as his head shook- literally.

"They're performing the ritual!" Gianna gasped, "Spítha, do something!"

Suddenly, Sparky grabbed the bottle from Gianna's hands, shoved through the crowd of almost-victorious Germans, rose the bottle over his head, and-

CRACK!

Managed to fend off the evil pipe from Indiana's forehead.

Unfortunately, though, he had angered more Germans.

* * * *

"Hol den Jungen!" One of the Germans ordered, all of the heads immediately turning to Sparky as they recoiled from his barricade into their bodies. The wine bottle was shattered on the floor, some bits of glass event glistened on his father's head as he recovered from the blow. His dazed and confused eyes focused on Sparky, and, with a bit of a head shake and furious blinking of the eyes, patted Sparky's shoulder a bit too hard.

"Thanks." His lips read.

Suddenly, a WHAM interrupted their moment as Sparky was shoved into the wall- the Germans crowded around Indiana again, but this time, the archaeologist was prepared.

CRACK!

The sound of a bullwhip had stunned the hands of the German who held the Pipe of Wit. Heads turned. A perfect time to strike, in Sparky's eyes, as he pushed the man who had barged into him and grabbed the now fallen Pipe of Wit from the floor.

"Spítha!" Gianna called, her hands shooting out to the young man, "Over here! Give me the pipe!"

Panicked, Sparky threw the pipe into his friend's arms and was immediately tackled by the other Nazis. A faint glimpse of a runaway Marcus Brody filled his vision as the doors to the bar opened to multiple people exiting, probably due to the bullwhip move that Indiana used.

Immediately, the German on top of Sparky was shoved off, and the college student was hauled up to his feet by his now determined father. It was then when Sparky was rasor-focused on his father's lips, which now read:

"Get your damn hands off of my son."

POW! Went the archaeologist's fist as it collided with the tackling German. He threw another wine bottle to Sparky, probably expecting him to make an encore with his stun performance. Which Sparky did.

CRACK!

BAM!

"SIR! ANOTHER BOTTLE!" He called over the havoc. Somehow, the jittery boy's aim was impeccable.

Thank the lord I took those Anatomy Study courses.

Indiana threw two more bottles his son's way as he then got his iconic revolver involved with the bar fight.

CRACK!

SLAM!

BAM!

"Wo ist das Rohr?" A German suddenly stopped, searching everywhere for... Something.

That was when Sparky realized that he couldn't see Gianna or Marcus anywhere.

Please be somewhere safe and not kidnapped.

"Wo ist Marianis Mädchen?"

Mariani? Like GIANNA MARIANI?

"Sie hat die Pfeife genommen!"

"Finde sie!"

"Holen Sie sich die Joneses!"

Indiana looked around, and Sparky could see his father calculating something. All the Germans got up from their "battle stations", let's say, and they all, instead of fighting the Joneses, went for their hands, as if to restrain them.

"Oh, no you don't!" Sparky grunted, grabbing another wine bottle- this time a full one- and smashing it over the German's head as the other Germans rushed out of the bar, probably looking for Gianna and Marcus. Indy seemed to have the same idea as well, also knocking out the feeble Nazis who decided to restrain them.

Stepping over the fallen bodies, Sparky almost felt proud of himself. Huh. He had finally gotten into a fight where he didn't have to tug on his father's leg to get out. Sure, he had been involved in some brawls, but never one where he was truly responsible for the dead bodies on the floor.

He looked up at his father, who grabbed his fedora and placed it back on his head, not before rubbing his forehead as if he was in a trance before.

"Sir...? Are you okay...?" Sparky asked, getting close enough to try to read his lips, as if he were to say something.

Silence.

"... Dad?"

Indiana's eyes shot right open. He didn't make eye contact with Sparky, but his eyes said all about his concern as he looked around and mouthed the words:

"Where am I?"

He then placed a hand on his throat.

"Why can't I talk?"

* * * *

"You know... The Door of Reflection?" Sparky asked, attempting to coax some memory out of his father as the two walked down the sidewalk, searching for any sign of Marcus or Gianna. Indiana was still dazed and confused, yet concerned.

At least he still has some sense.

"You're here because you lost your voice!"

"I know that!" Indiana mouthed, pointing to his mouth.

"But it's because of the Door of Reflection!"

Indiana snapped his fingers, "That! What's that supposed to mean?"

Sparky was exasperated. He rummaged through his father's satchel and pulled out his journal, pointing to the notes that were undeniably in his father's unique professor-esque writing on the Door of Reflection and the Instruments of Doom.

"There. All here." Sparky pointed to the Flute of Sound section, "That's what has your voice." He said, looking at his father for any more conversation.

"I don't remember making these." Indiana mouthed, rubbing his chin, "But they're my notes, I'll tell you that."

"So the Pipe of Wit must've worked." Sparky gasped, "They took some of your memory with the pipe!"

"So that's what the Nazis were talking about."

"Yes! Gianna has the pipe!"

Silence.

"Oh, right, you met Gianna yesterday- she's my classmate, Sir- uh, Dad, and... She has the pipe, which means we can get your memories back, and-"

"Spítha!"

"GIA!" Sparky's head whipped around to see his friend rushing over to him and his father, followed by the thankfully unscathed Marcus, Pipe of Wit in hand. Sparky turned to Indy, "Dad, this is Gianna Mariani- she's my classmate, and-"

"Spítha? Is something wrong with your father?" Gianna questioned, tilting her head, "He knows me already."

"The Pipe." Sparky responded, pointing at the Instrument.

Marcus handed the college student the Pipe of Wit.

"It took some of his memories- all about the Door of Reflection and the Instruments." Sparky handed the Pipe to Indiana, "Here!"

Indiana looked at the Pipe, and his face contorted as if trying to remember it.

"Mr. Brody, you were the one discussing everything with Dr. Jones." Gianna called out, "Maybe you can be our 'Indy' until we can get his memories out of that Pipe."

"Anything, I'm just thankful the Pipe didn't take his intelligence." Marcus shook his head, "Last I remember, we were discussing the Roman origin of the Door."

"Yes! Yes!"

* * * *

The four had decided to seek refuge in a hotel. Their motive was still clear despite Indiana's fogginess- they would leave for Rome by morning. They would need to stay up to discuss their findings on the Door of Reflection, after all, they could sleep on the 5 hour flight as much as they wanted to.

Sparky and Gianna had roomed together in room 014, and Marcus and Indy roomed right next door, 015.

So, when Gianna and Marcus had gone out to find more books and other things for their trip, Sparky decided to check in on his now learning father. His strong father. His confused father. His mute father.

"Sir?" He called, knocking at the door. The sound of snapping fingers erupted from the desk at the corner of the room, and there was Indiana Jones, reading away and taking notes in the journal of his own- repeating notes, basically, probably to keep his mind sharp. To relearn, perhaps.

Silence.

Sparky stood next to the desk, shrugging, "How's the recap going?"

Indiana's jaw shifted, seemingly not remembering he couldn't audibly respond. He looked up.

"Uh." Sparky shifted.

This is awkward.

"How much do you remember?"

"Nothing about the door."

More silence.

Indiana crossed his arms, "It's been two years."

Sparky tensed. Right, his father couldn't remember their reuniting moment back in Rome. "Yeah, it's been two years... Well, once you get your memory back, you'll know everything about me again..." He picked up the Pipe from beside Indiana's arm, "What's important is this."

Indiana took the pipe from Sparky's hands, "Is there anything I should know?"

"Well..." Sparky pulled out a pencil from behind his ear, fidgeting with it, "I've got a snake."

Indiana visibly tensed. His jaw moved a bit from where he was looking down, and Sparky assumed it was a sharp, unconvinced "What."

"Surprise!" Sparky laughed nervously, "His name is Teeths."

Indiana looked back up at his adoptive son, confused. "Teeths?"

"Yeah."

"Teeths?" His head tilted.

"Yep."

"Venomous?"

"Last I checked, corn snakes weren't venomous, so we should be good." Sparky grinned despite himself, "Looking forward to seeing him meet his Grandpa."

Indiana rolled his eyes, setting his hat down on the desk. He looked back up, mouthing "What am I gonna do with you, kid?"

Sparky chuckled after reading his father's lips, "We're gonna stop Nazis from opening the Gates of Hades."

Indiana smirked, standing up and ruffling his son's hair.

"Damn right."