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Jotaro’s bleary eyes opened to the darkness of the hotel room. His reality shifted from his fitful dreams to the small room shrouded in shadow, the only sound being the metallic hum of the air conditioner, the thump of feet in the hallway, and the occasional honk of a car on the streets outside. The small red numbers on the radio flashed the time: 1:13 AM. Thinking nothing of it but another sleepless night, Jotaro groaned and turned over, hugging the rough bedsheets closer to keep out the icy cold air, and heaving a sigh. However, as the steady hum of the air conditioner died down, his ears pick up again what woke him from his fitful rest.
It was you. Even through the dark haze of the room, he could see your tensed-up form. During the sign-in process, Joseph had accidentally written your name next to Jotaro’s instead of the next one down, switching you and Kakyoin. However, all of you were too tired and exhausted to care, and just wanted to crash on the beds to get the few precious hours of sleep you could before heading out the next morning. After everyone’s showers, Avdol did a last-minute check to make sure everyone was safe before saying goodnight.
Jotaro did not meet you until you transferred to his school during senior year. The two of you took aquatic science together, however, there was no interaction except for a few glances. That is, until Kakyoin manipulated the school nurse with Heirophant Green, entangling you in this strange journey to save Jotaro’s mother. Your stand ability had been useful, and nobody had any real objections to you coming with the group. The first time Jotaro saw you, he had to force himself to not stare. A raised, angry scar marred your face, stretching across your nose and down the side of your face. Even more unusual, no one in the school dared say anything about it. When you walked the hallways, the other students parted for you like a school of fish making way for a shark. You were not a delinquent like him, you were very respectful to your teachers, and Jotaro never saw a bad grade passed your way. So, why was everyone so afraid of you?
At the Kujo residence, he finally asked you about the scar, but you said it had just been “a bad accident.” The answer was vague, but he didn’t push any further. It was obvious it was something you weren’t willing to elaborate on, and he didn’t care enough to waste his time asking. However, as the journey trudged on, you two had grown a mutual respect for each other. You had each other’s backs, Jotaro had risked his life to save you, and you had risked yours for him. Even though neither of you talked much, you were comfortable around each other. You felt safe around him, and he was comforted by your steadfast presence and steely resolve. As the group drew closer to Egypt, the days got longer and hotter. As much as you didn’t want to, the heat forced you out of your school uniform and into more comfortable clothes.
When you stepped out of your hotel room in Calcutta to meet with the group before heading out, Jotaro realized why you had such a branding scar, why the students parted the hallways, whispering in hushed voices and sparing side glances your way, and why no one dared to say anything to you at all. Peeking out from your tank top, across the expanse of your back was a tattoo of a blue dragon fighting a tiger, entangled in a tango of fangs and death. He thought he saw those colors on your skin, peeking out behind your hair when you twisted your neck as you drove the car the others were piled into, as you all took turns on driving duty. He told himself he was just seeing things and pushed it from his mind. Feeling eyes on you, you turned to see Jotaro and Kakyoin staring at you. They knew you knew, and you knew they knew. As the group disbanded from their meeting, setting out to put their plan in action, Kakyoin came to your side to ask the dreaded question.
“Are you... you know-“
“No. Not anymore,” you replied quickly, ending any further discussion as you walked ahead of them.
Jotaro eyed your form in the twilight, the only light coming from under the door. Your sleep-muffled voice pierced the silence of the room. It came in strained mutterings, your vocalizations dripping with fear and panic. Every so often, your limbs would twitch violently.
You were having a nightmare. And by the looks and sounds of it, a very bad one.
Jotaro was tired, but his concern for you overwhelmed even the immense exhaustion coursing through him. He quietly threw back his sheets and used his arms to push himself to sit on the edge of the bed. Hushed mumbles of “no… no, no-“ and whimpers came from your bunched up form. Jotaro stood up and turned on the bedside lamp, bathing the small room in a pale-yellow glow. He stood awkwardly above you, not knowing how to awaken you from your dream state without scaring you.
“(Y/n),” he whispers, the grogginess in his voice almost palpable. “(Y/n), wake up.”
Your form jumps slightly, but you were still deep in your nightmare realm. Jotaro could see a slight sheen of sweat on your skin, making your tattoos glisten in the dim light of the room. Jotaro sighs, kneeling beside your bed. If you woke up and saw his large silhouette standing over you through your sleepy haze, he realized things may get worse. He saw your chest heaving under the sheets, the throat letting out strangled sounds as if you were crying in your dream, but not quite in the real world. “(Y/n),” Jotaro whispered a little louder as he stroked your arm with the tips of his fingers, trying to gently wake you from your fearful sleep. You whimpered but did not wake. He placed his large hand softly on your shoulder and gently shook you.
In an instant, you were ripped from your nightmare and into the liminality of not knowing what was real and what wasn’t. A sharp, terrified inhale pierced your lungs as your head whipped around, hand instinctively moving to hit whatever touched you. Before your hand landed anywhere, your wrist was caught in a large, gentle hand. Your eyes adjusted to the world around you, realizing you were back in the hotel room. Jotaro took note of your wide, panicked (e/c) eyes. He realized you were shaking before you wrenched your hand free of his grasp.
“Hey, it’s okay, (y/n)… you were just having a nightmare,” he said quietly, trying to calm you down. Even though his eyes were tired, his familiar blue-green eyes soothed you like cool water in an arid desert. They weren’t annoyed or angry, but understanding. You lowered your gaze, unable to meet his eyes.
“I-I’m sorry,” you said shakily, clearing your dry throat.
“’S fine,” he said gruffly. He stood up, and you stared at his back as he grabbed a plastic cup from the top of the microwave. The silence was much too loud, and every sensation of something touching your skin put you on edge. You felt your stomach start to churn, but tried your hardest to suppress your nausea. Your heart still hammered from the adrenaline-fueled nightmare. You felt clammy, cold, and gross. Jotaro came back with a small cup of water. You accepted it with a small thanks, trying in vain to ignore your queasiness, hoping the cool water will help your stomach. Jotaro sinks down on the bed next to you. You know he has a multitude of unspoken questions, and you’re eternally grateful he doesn’t ask them. “You okay?” Jotaro asks you, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands to wake himself up. He places his rough hand on your back, and the feeling makes your heart skip and calms your nerves at the same time. You noticed his hair was uncharacteristically messy from him tossing and turning. He looks so cute when he’s sleepy, you thought.
“In all honesty, I think I might throw up,” you said. Your leg was bouncing, trying to distract yourself from your churning stomach. The adrenaline leaving your system so quickly was throwing your insides for a whirl. A surge of nausea was the last straw, you knew there was no use trying to stop it. You bolted from the side of the bed, slamming the bathroom door open to get there as quickly as you could. Jotaro could hear the sound of you dry heaving and coughing and felt a twinge of pity. He stood up and quietly made his way to the bathroom to see if you needed help but stopped at the doorway. He could hear you quietly whispering to yourself.
“It wasn’t my fault; I had no choice… I was just a driver, I was just a child, why did he make me do it? It was me or him… God, it should have been me. Why the fuck did he do it?” you nearly sobbed. “No, no he’s dead. He’s dead and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s over. It was years ago, get it together.”
Jotaro felt his heart snap when he heard your distressed whispers. You really were a mystery to him, but he couldn’t just break every wall you had up in one day. It would take a while for you to trust him wholeheartedly, but he would get there eventually. You were a closed book, but every time he looked into your eyes, he wanted to get lost in the pages of your story. He knocked on the bathroom door, giving you time to collect yourself before he came in.
Your eyes looked so tortured. You were too young to look so tired. Your head rested in the palms of your hands, and your shoulders shook and shivered as you rested on the cold linoleum floor. Jotaro remained quiet, no wanting to pester you with useless words. He grabbed a soft towel from the rack and wet it with warm water, wringing it until it was damp. You look at him from the corner of your eye, too exhausted to move. The pain of yesterday’s fight, the emptiness of your stomach from skipping dinner, the headache from the adrenaline withdrawal, and the overall malaise from dry heaving in the early hours in the morning all congealed into a general lack of motivation to move. To simply put it, you were a train wreck. Jotaro handed another cup of water to you that you quickly gulped down.
From behind you, Jotaro began to gently rub your shoulders with the warm towel. The feeling of warmth spreading across your cool skin made you practically melt. Jotaro smiled slightly as you sighed in appreciation, the warm water relaxing some of your pent-up tensenesses. He brushed your messy hair off of your back as he placed the towel on your neck. He studied your tattoos with a mesmerized intensity. Every line and gradient was expertly etched into your skin, shifting in time with every movement of your muscles.
“Here, sit on the side of the tub. Let me get your face,” he said quietly. Your bones ached as you pushed yourself off the floor to sit on the edge of the tub. You looked at Jotaro’s face etched with concentration as he wiped the cool sweat from your face, the warmth nearly lulling your exhausted form to sleep. He was dressed in his undershirt, and if it weren’t for the overwhelming fatigue, the proximity to his muscled form would make you flustered. He was so close you thought you could count his eyelashes. His thick black hair was still a mess, sticking every which way, and you snorted internally. You were both just two people involved on a quest that could honestly end up with the both of you dead. Your memories and fears of the future overwhelmed your emotions as you felt Jotaro’s hand accidentally brush your scarred cheek.
“Why are you doing this for me?” you asked. This was so unlike him. The abrasive, foul-mouthed, antisocial delinquent you grew to know was kneeled in front of you like a concerned mother taking care of her child after a bad night terror.
Jotaro’s ministrations stopped, his brow creasing as he searched your face with a blank, unreadable expression. As you were desperately wondering what was going on behind those intense, blue eyes, a multitude of answers whispered in the back of Jotaro’s mind. You’re beautiful, I want to protect you, you’re so strong, I need you, I hate seeing you so hurt, I couldn’t live with myself if I let anything bad happen to you- Everything he couldn’t tell you and more…
“Jotaro,” your soft voice brought him out of his tumultuous thoughts. You thought you saw a flash of sadness behind the sleepiness and concentration.
He stayed silent for a while. “I just care about you is all,” he settled gruffly, avoiding your gaze as he stood up. He still wore a blank expression, which you knew was a sign he was hiding something. However, as he didn’t prod you with questions, you would give the same courtesy to him. He folded the towel and placed it back on the rack before washing his hands. It felt so foreign to be cared for, to have a friend. You could only be strong for so long before your foundation started to crumble. You had been alone for so long, trying to scrape by in this cruel world by yourself, you almost forgot what it felt like to feel something akin to happiness.
And you were so, so terrified to lose it.
The floodgates opened and you were afraid you would be swept away, overwhelmed by your own reality. You reached out and grasped Jotaro’s wrist in a vice grip before he could turn away. He looked back at you with a puzzled look until he saw tears welling up in your tired eyes. Your voice shook as you spoke.
“Jotaro… I don’t want to die,” you said weakly as tears trailed down your face, following the path of your scar. The girl who had been so strong for so long was breaking.
In an instant, every wall Jotaro had so carefully constructed around his heart crumbled.
Jotaro wrapped his strong arms around your shaking frame. He smelled like cigarette smoke, sandalwood, and hotel fabric softener. It was a weird combination, but it was him. He rubbed gentle circles on your back, shushing you quietly. You cried silently into the crook of his neck as he told you everything was going to be okay.
“I won’t let that happen, (y/n),” he whispered. “You’re not alone anymore.” The ghost of his breath passed over the shell of your ear. You wrapped your arms tight around his waist, feeling the map of his muscles under his tank top. In that moment, there was no Dio, no stand users, no prospect of dying. You were just two exhausted people in a hotel bathroom, holding onto each other for dear life. Jotaro stroked your hair before pulling away, studying your face.
Ask her.
“Hey, um-“
Just do it.
This was the first time you had seen the large, gruff man blush. A shade of pink dusted his nose and cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I was wondering, maybe, if you wanted to… you don’t have to but…”
Just spit it out, man!
“You can… sleep in my bed, with me, if you want… so you don’t have to be alone. I-I know nightmares suck.”
Seeing Jotaro so flustered asking you such an innocent question made your heart warm. Maybe he felt the same way you do, but that was a question for another time. What you both needed now was sleep, glorious sleep. You nodded, “I think that’s a good idea.”
You shut off the bathroom light and clicked off the room lamp. The clock now flashed 2:45. Both of you got under the starched blankets, hoping the other couldn’t hear the sound of hammering hearts. Wrapping the sheets around you, you felt safer already as you let yourself sink into the mattress.
“Goodnight, (y/n),” Jotaro whispered in the darkness.
“Goodnight, Jotaro,” you whispered back. It was like you were two kids at a sleepover afraid to express your feelings to each other.
___
A loud knock on your room’s door at the crack of dawn signaled the start of the rest of the group’s journey. As your mind cleared of fogginess and your eyes adjusted to the sunlight peeking through the cracks, you felt an odd sensation. There was a heaviness pressed into your waist. As you shifted slightly, the heaviness wrapped around you tighter and you heard a low whine behind you.
It was an arm.
Jotaro’s arm.
Jotaro’s arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel his forehead pressed against your upper back, his hair brushing your skin. You smiled softly. He didn’t care about your past or your scars. All he cared about was you. Your heart thumped in your chest as you touched the soft skin of the back of his hand, rubbing your thumb in circles. From behind you, Jotaro took a deep inhale and sighed, clearing his throat, signaling that he was awake.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” you said as his arm slowly withdrew from your side. He groaned as he stretched in the soft orange morning light.
His gruff, groggy voice rumbled against your back. “You hogged the blanket all night, so as your punishment I’m going to touch you with my cold feet.”
“NO!” You yelled as you shot out of bed, nearly falling to the floor in the tangle of sheets that you had, in fact, hogged all night. Jotaro snorted and chuckled at you, his rare smile making your chest blossom with warmth.
The sound of both of you laughing filled the small hotel room, and for a small moment, everything was okay.