Chapter Text
- June, 1880 -
“DIO!”
The voice that rang out through the Joestar manor was colored by righteous fury. Jonathan had been through many ups and downs--more downs than anything, lately--since the unprecedented arrival of Dio Brando. He would have taken all of the hardships in relative silence too if Dio hadn't gone out of his way to involve someone else, and reap the benefits from it.
That he could not abide.
Especially when that someone was Erina. Not only was she a cherished friend, but she held a very special place in his heart. Perhaps he was a little in love, as much as it was difficult to admit. Those were the very feelings however, which made Dio’s cruel and public mistreatment of her even worse. It was his fault she was forcibly dragged into this mess and as a gentleman he could not sit idly by while Dio insulted her honor.
Dio didn’t seem at all surprised by his brutish entrance, instead closing his book and rising to his feet as Jonathan barged the room. “Hush, boy” he tutted. “You won’t speak my name in vain again if you know what’s good for you.”
The air of superiority he addressed him with seemed to only incense Jonathan further. He brandished his fists, rage overtaking him completely.
“We end this now!” Jonathan shouted, fists tightly clenched. “I won’t let you sully an innocent maiden’s honor! Your fight is with me, damn it!”
The tone painting Dio’s expression morphed into what could only be defined as smug, possibly the smuggest Jonathan has seen him to date. “Upset about Erina? That she shared her favors with me? And now you intend to give me a proper thrashing for my impudence” he crooned in a mocking tone. What rousted Jonathan even more was that he had the gall to speak her name in such a way.
Who did he think he was? Her favor was not given to him, it was taken.
“This time, Dio, you have gone too far!”
He wasn’t wrong, Jonathan was intent on giving Dio a thrashing the likes of which he had never seen. As if to punctuate that declaration, he jumped at Dio with all the ferocity of a savage beast. However, his first attempted strike was easily deflected.
“You may be right, but you’re the one who’ll pay!” Dio said through gritted teeth. In response to Jonathan’s sloppy maneuver he brought his elbow up and watched in sheer satisfaction as it made direct impact with his attacker’s nose. While Jonathan struggled to recover, Dio took no time to grind the joint against the now bloody flesh and cartilage.
“Looking to repeat your performance from our boxing match? Be my guest.” Jonathan’s blood began soaking through his suit sleeve and after what felt like an eternity, Dio finally shoved him away, fixing his tie with a small ‘hmph’ as if this all was beneath him. Jonathan staggered back against the wall trying to think of anything that would will him back into the fight.
He thought of being trapped in Dio’s shadow forever, of having to undergo all of this torment for the rest of his days. He also recalled Erina, her stricken face when they last crossed paths. He had to do this. He had to do this for himself and for her, the girl who just by association was dragged into this mess. This was his fault and she didn’t deserve this.
He had to make this right. One way or another.
In a swift flourish Dio threw his jacket aside, more than ready for retaliation. He raised his fists and shouted his challenge to Jonathan who was all too ready to oblige. Jonathan screamed and charged at him, throwing yet another easily blocked punch. In turn, almost effortlessly, Dio struck his knee against Jonathan’s face, knocking him off to the side. It hurt and threw him off balance but not nearly as much as Dio seemed to think, judging by the victorious glint in his eye.
Jonathan recovered quickly, reaching out to grab hold of Dio’s head. It was Dio’s turn to struggle in his grasp, looking for a means of escape from Jonathan’s surprisingly steel grip. Despite all that, Dio still took time out to demean him.
“How are you able to grab me after such a blow to the head!? Perhaps I was too gentle with you!”
Jonathan didn’t give him enough time to back that statement up before he reared back and slammed his forehead into Dio’s face. The resulting pain was unbearable of course, but he could only imagine what his adopted brother must’ve felt. He couldn’t stop himself from feeling supremely self satisfied as he felt his hair mat with the blood spilt from Dio’s nose.
That shut him up good.
Jonathan took the opportunity this afforded him and threw punch after punch at Dio. An elbow here, a fist there, he wasn’t even sure where he was hitting with at some point. He was running on pure adrenaline and rage, pushed solely by the desire to rectify these injustices. A righteous cry of Dio’s name escaped him as his fists slammed hard into the other boy’s face.
“I’m going to beat you ‘til you cry like a baby, Dio!” This wasn’t an empty statement either, he wanted nothing more than to see tears spill from Dio’s eyes as they had his these past weeks and no doubt Erina’s after such a traumatic incident.
Finally, Jonathan ended his barrage of punches with a clean uppercut to Dio’s jaw. This caused the boy to fly back, leaving quite the impressive distance between them as he hit the foyer wall and crumpled to the floor. The resulting impact caused his mother’s treasured memento, the stone mask, to jostle from it’s place on the wall and land unceremoniously on Dio’s face.
This would not do. After all, Jonathan was nowhere near done with him yet.
He followed right after him, grabbing Dio by the front of his shirt. His hands were bloodied, from Dio’s inflicted injuries or his own torn knuckles he wasn’t sure, but there was some pride found as he realized he was staining Dio’s freshly laundered shirt in the process of hauling him up.
“I’m not finished with you yet, Dio.” He warned, grabbing at the mask to pull it off of Dio’s face. Jonathan needed his target back, wanted Dio to look him in the eye as he brought him to justice for going to such lengths to tarnish Erina’s honor. There was no reason for him to bring ruin to one of the few cherished reminders of Mary Joestar’s memory as well.
However, as his bloodstained hand left a bright red smear along the ancient stone, something happened. Before he could remove the mask, needles sprung out suddenly and lodged themselves right into Dio’s head. There was a flash of near blinding light and then… nothing. An unsheathed pocket knife slipped from Dio’s hand and clattered onto the floor. As for Dio?
…
His body had gone limp in Jonathan’s grasp.
Was he… dead? Jonathan immediately dropped him and rose to his feet looking horrified. He didn’t know that would happen! Fear seized him as he looked down at the lifeless body of Dio Brando. He’d wanted to pummel him, sure but… kill him? That was never his intention!
Ice entered his veins.
What was he to do now? Thinking about how he was to explain this to father made it hard for him to breathe. He started pacing, chewing nervously at his bottom lip as he tried to figure out something. Anything. There was no explanation for this! He did a terrible thing even if he didn’t realize it. In the end, he had gone too far. The sheer guilt of it all felt as if it was going to swallow him whole. He was going to deserve whatever punishment his father saw fit for his crimes--
Jonathan’s panicked thoughts were interrupted by the sound of stone meeting tile. Whipping his head around towards Dio’s fallen form, he saw that what he thought was a lifeless corpse was now sitting back up. This was impossible, wasn’t it? He… he saw those stone protrusions pierce Dio in the head himself. Witnessed it with his own two eyes. No one could have survived that.
“Jojooo,” Dio growled with a voice that hardly sounded human, and a glare that chilled Jonathan to the bone. Dio’s eyes, once amber, now seemed to be blood red in color. He wasn’t sure what was going on or how it happened but Jonathan knew he didn’t like it.
“D-Dio?” He responded in kind, inching back slowly, trying to put distance between them. But in a flash Dio was on his feet and charging at him. The fight response that had been triggered when Jonathan entered the manor had undoubtedly shifted elsewhere. His urge to beat Dio was gone and instead he broke into a sprint. As fast as his legs could carry him, he ran towards the door and the bright afternoon sun. Dio was close behind, letting out a growl that should have never come from a living human as he reached out to grab onto the back of Jonathan’s jacket.
Jonathan closed his eyes and prepared for the worst. Ready to be yanked back by this new, terrifying Dio.
It never came.
Instead, Jonathan heard an almost animalistic scream behind him as Dio tumbled back onto the mansion floor, holding onto his hand. As he gauged the situation he saw that the once pale and perfect skin of Dio’s hand had blistered and turned a stark leathery white while the area around it burned an angry red.
It looked like agony.
Dio, to his credit, wasn’t hindered by the pain too long. As he saw Jonathan looking on in abject horror he tried once again to drag himself outside. However, now with a better view this time, Jonathan watched as Dio’s other unmarred hand began to smoke and sizzle after only a split second in the sunlight. Another scream followed as Dio snatched his hand back inside. How could only a mere second of exposure to sunlight cause such burns to him?
Jonathan was frankly terrified. Something had completely changed in Dio after wearing the mask and it was all his fault. As if on cue, to punctuate his guilt, his father came running from the upstairs hall.
“What on earth is happening down there!? Dio? Are you hurt?”
Dio looked up at George Joestar on the landing of the stairs, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes as he brought his now blistered hands close to his chest. Jonathan was paralyzed with fear. What would happen to his father if Dio was this out of control?
“M-my apologies for the noise... Jojo and I were rough housing in good fun and I injured myself,” Dio replied as easily as he could through gritted teeth. “I’ll take care of it, no need to worry.”
Jonathan was surprised to say the least. Not only was Dio in some semblance of control over himself now but he lied so easily without demonizing Jonathan for something he had rightly done. That mere action had thrown him so off kilter he didn’t know what to say.
“No need to worry… are you certain?” George had obviously heard his cry of pain and that did not make it sound like a simple injury. He was rightly concerned.
Just as Dio was to open his mouth and brush off his protests Jonathan was quick to reply. “It’s as Dio said, father. I will take care of his injuries myself, I promise.” At that suggestion George wore a small smile, pleased that his son and his ward were getting on with each other finally. Although, in reality, that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
“Alright Jojo, take good care of him and if you need help do not hesitate to ask for it.” George spoke softly, turning on his heel on the landing to return back to his study.
Jonathan couldn’t help himself as he practically deflated in relief watching his father walk away. After a brief moment he turned his attention to Dio who was staring at his hands with a strange look on his face. Was it anger? Disbelief? Confusion? Jonathan had to wonder if it was all three.
“Dio--” he began, crossing the distance between them to place his hand on his arm and help him up. However, Dio cut him off quickly and pulled from his grasp, getting to his feet.
“What have you DONE to me, Jojo!? ”
His voice came out as a snarl but there was a noted panic as well. Perhaps that was the unknown emotion festering in Dio’s eyes. In the short time he’d known him Jonathan had never seen Dio stricken with panic or fear, not even once. This was new. Jonathan was filled with a helplessness as he had no answer to that question. He floundered instead for a response.
“D-Dio, I’m… I am not quite sure what happened b-but… I’ll try to help you find out. I don’t know what this could possibly be, but it obviously has something to do with the mask!”
Dio barked out a laugh that was devoid of mirth and started walking through the downstairs hall, intent on tending to himself and not letting Jonathan anywhere near him. “Oh that much is obvious Jojo, but I don’t want your pity or your care. I just want to find out what’s happened to me without you getting too close to do any more damage.” Jonathan followed behind him, cringing at his harsh tone. He wasn’t wrong, there was still much he could mess up, especially now… but he had to help. That much was certain. He needed to help Dio because he had created this problem, this was his fault. They had to find out what was wrong with him.
Dio was cautious roaming through the house, practically hugging the walls and ducking to the floor if there was an especially sunny window. Jonathan made it a point to run ahead and close the curtains he could as a way to ease the blow of his mistake.
Unfortunately, it did nothing.
The two walked in a tense silence, Dio’s attention shifting between the hazards of the hall and the damage to his hands until he finally reached his bedroom. Jonathan waited at the door for him patiently while Dio stared him down, waiting for something himself.
“Well stop dawdling and go in to check if the curtains are open Jojo!” Dio snapped, breaking the silence. “What? Were you waiting for me ? So I could go in and possibly hurt myself even more?”
Jonathan jumped to attention. “N-No! Not at all! I’ll go check immediately!” he replied with a concerned look. He cautiously opened Dio’s door and peered inside. There was a small beam of light streaming in from the partially closed drapes which Jonathan rushed to fix before announcing that Dio could come inside.
Dio sniffed imperiously and stepped in, not sparing Jonathan so much as a thank you or a glance. Instead he busied himself with pulling a small box from a drawer next to his bed which contained bandages. He set to caring for himself while Jonathan stood awkwardly in his room.
He had to find some way to help though. There had to be something they could use to reverse whatever had just happened… but they didn’t really know what happened to Dio, did they? What even was it? Some sort of disease?
He froze. Perhaps he couldn’t think of what the answer was but… perhaps…
“Dio, I think I know who can help you.”
Dio sighed and looked up at Jonathan with a mix of irritation and disinterest. “And who, pray tell, is that? Because I am not keen on just telling the whole world about this bizarre condition.” His response was clipped as his patience with Jonathan had long since worn out.
“We-- we could ask Erina! She’s the daughter of a doctor you know and maybe she knows something we don’t! A-And even if she doesn’t, there might be something her father has that could tell us” Jonathan said with conviction. This was their only option right? They couldn’t tell anyone else what had transpired but he trusted her.
The look Dio gave him in return was incredulous. “Oh yes wonderful idea, Erina Pendleton will surely jump at any opportunity to help me.” he replied with thick, mocking sarcasm. “Please Jojo, use your head. Not only is she not a doctor but I’ve given her ample reason to never want to see my face again and I’d rather not see such a disrespectful wench, myself.”
“I can talk her into it Dio, I know I can convince her,” Jonathan began, his eyes narrowing. “But if you want the help from our only option, you should endeavor to not call her such an insulting thing. If you do so in my presence I won’t hesitate to teach you manners again.”
Unfazed by such a threat Dio merely snorted in amusement and rolled his eyes, not bothering to look away from the bandages he was now securing around his blistered hands.
“If you’re truly looking for disappointment go seek her out, be my guest. I for one, am not holding my breath.” With that, Dio waved a half bandaged hand at Jonathan with a sneer as if to dismiss him.
“Fine then, I will! I will prove you wrong!” Jonathan shouted it almost as a challenge as he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him and his steps full of purpose. He would seek Erina out and convince her to help if it was the last thing he did.
Dio flinched as the door slammed shut. Now in the peace and quiet of his room he allowed his breath to come quicker and tears to fall freely from his eyes as he privately broke down.
What had become of him?