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In the weeks after her miraculous recovery from a terrible illness, Jotaro seemed different. He had returned from the trip with his grandfather shortly after she recovered. He had been away for two months, and at first, she thought that he must be jet-lagged. He slept more and was more irritable at first, but he soon settled into more worrying behaviors.
Holly knew her son well, and she understood he was going through something of a rebellious phase over the last year in particular. She once asked her parents how they survived her own feisty and defiant teen years. They chuckled and told her that lots of love and patience was the key.
She had done her best to remember her parents’ advice as Jotaro began to enter his own ‘phase,’ and she felt like she’d weathered it well so far. But now, after his trip, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He wasn’t talkative before, save for the occasional rebellious outburst, but now he was silent, distracted at times. Before, he would fuss at her when she tried to fix his jacket, or when she gave him surprise hugs. He acted like her doting was an embarrassment, but he seemed to enjoy it, in his own way.
Lately though, he wouldn’t say a word. She had tried to ask him about his trip, or if something was going on, and couldn’t get a single answer. Her father was the same whenever she asked him, although he still seemed to be his usual self, at least.
She had tried to grab him in a big surprise bear hug last week, and felt him go tense and still beneath her arms. When she fixed his hat one morning, he didn’t wave her away, or scoff at her, he didn’t do anything. He just stood there, staring at the floor. After he left for school, she noticed he had barely touched his food.
He seemed worried all the time. When he thought she wasn’t paying attention, he watched her like a hawk any time she coughed, or carried a heavy armful of laundry, or used anything sharp. She nicked her finger pretty badly while chopping vegetables one night, and he snatched the knife away.
“Stop being so being careless all the time!” He’d shouted at her.
She stared at him, more shocked than anything. There was a note of panic in his voice that she’d never heard before. He immediately looked guilty and hurried away, before she could say anything. He returned with some bandages and disinfectant, shoved them at her, and left again just as quickly.
--
Holly awoke one evening to hear yelling. She quickly rose from her bed and stumbled towards the door, at first wondering if it was a dream. She slid the door open and realized that Jotaro was yelling. She narrowly avoided tripping on her own feet as she bolted to her son’s room.
She found him still in bed, panting and thrashing and yelling in distress. He clawed at his own body, and she saw scars all over his arms and legs that had not been there before. She now realized why he wouldn’t take off his jacket around her.
“Jojo…. Jotaro, wake up!” She called.
She knelt by his bed and took hold of his shoulders. He shoved wildly at some invisible threat, and she yelped when his elbow sharply caught her in the ribs. Still, she held on.
“Jotaro, please! Please wake up!”
His eyes snapped open. He looked for his non-existent attacker at first, but only saw her.
“Mom…?”
For the first time since he was a little boy, he looked scared. She reached for his face, before hissing at the growing pain in her ribs. She clutched at it with one hand. Jotaro sat up and grasped her shoulders, now looking even more fearful. Holly gave a pained smile and caressed his face with one hand.
“It’s okay, Jotaro. You were having a bad dream. You’re okay now.”
“You’re hurt.”
Tears began to well in his eyes, and Holly could feel her heart breaking. She sat next to him on the bed and held his face in both hands, the ache in her side forgotten.
“I feel fine.” She said, wiping away his tears. “Really, I’m not trying to act tough.”
She ran her hand over the scars on one of his arms. All manner of scratches, slashes, and punctures marked his arms and shoulders. Some still had a rough texture, only recently healed.
“Jotaro, what happened to you?” She asked.
He opened his mouth, but couldn’t speak for a long time. He wanted to tell her, she could see on his face that he did, but he struggled to say anything. She placed an arm around him and gently squeezed his side.
“You don’t have to answer that if you aren’t ready to.” She said.
“No… It’s…” He started. “So much happened, mom.”
Slowly, he told her about what he had experienced. He stopped, and started, and trailed off sometimes. Holly nodded patiently and only listened to what her son had to say.
He described the encounters with other stand users. She knew they encountered trouble on their journey, but she had no idea there were so many enemies. They were fighting for their lives at least once every few days for two whole months. All to save her life.
Eventually he was lying on his side, head in her lap as she gently ran a hand over his hair. She listened on as he described their last few days, and their encounter with Dio. She felt deeply pained and guilty when he told her about the fates of his friends. She never would have asked her father, son, and their friends to go on such a dangerous trip for her sake. She also realized they had no choice, even if she wasn’t dying.
He stopped his retelling, trembling.
“I thought I was all alone, fighting him… Even the old man…”
He fell silent, clenching and un-clenching his fists. Holly didn’t press him for more details, only waited. Soon, she realized that he had fallen asleep, and she continued to stroke his hair until she began to doze, as well.
--
Holly woke up to the smell of coffee, and eggs. She sat up and pushed the covers off of her. The events of the previous night came back to her, and she realized she was still in Jotaro’s room. She got up and walked into the hallway.
“Mom, I’m going to school.” Jotaro called from the kitchen.
“Oh, Jo-”
He’d already closed the door behind him. She sighed deeply. She didn’t mean to sleep so long, and now she had completely missed their morning breakfast routine. More importantly, she didn’t get the chance to talk to him about what he told her.
She shook her head. Might as well get some coffee to clear her thoughts. She noticed a few dishes still on the table, and walked over to collect them when she realized they were for her. He had prepared eggs and a little bowl of fruit cut crudely into cute shapes. Just like she would make breakfast for him as a child. Next to the plate and bowl sat a cup of steaming coffee, and a little scrap of paper with the word ‘thanks’ scrawled on it.
Holly smiled, sipped her coffee, and took a bite of slightly rubbery eggs.