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This was a mistake.
This whole thing was a mistake.
They should never have agreed to the “request”. Dio had to admit and give the organization a mocking applause. They knew how to trick people to get inside this damn cult and stick around, not knowing any better. That by the time they finally realized the truth, they were so deep and tangled in the webs, it became next to impossible to escape. To return to their previous lives. To live for the rest of their days, like any normal individual on the streets. To be none the wiser, to the true darkness out there.
The thought almost made Dio chuckle darkly.
Here he thought that he knew the truth. Knew how real life worked from a young age. Watched what it was really like to live among the rats and shadows. Had learned how to read people’s true intentions, hidden behind the layers of mask and pretty words. Oh, how the tables have turned. He truly was a naïve child. One that knew no better than someone that lived a life in luxury. A wealthy person that knew nothing of how difficult life could truly get.
Unfortunately, unlike most mistakes, this one had far more dire consequences.
Golden eyes fluttered closed. Long eyelashes brushed against high cheek bones in a teasing manner. Chest expended at the same time a long, deep, inhale was taken. Fingers twitched. A leg muscle spasmed. A foot lifted to begin a tapping rhythm, before it got caught, and forced to rest flat against the cold hard floor. The air around the figure was barely acceptable. Whatever cool temperature there was, managed to wiggle ever so into his street clothes. The only thing he had that was acceptable for sleep, unlike the uniform he had to wear.
When those same eyes opened once more, they took in the sight of a barely illuminated room.
There was a tiny fireplace going in the corner. Every once in awhile he would get up to throw in another block of wood, then went back to his abandoned wooden chair, and resumed his previous position. It barely managed to warm up the small room. This chamber was bare, aside from a shelf, 2 poorly fitted beds, a small table, and 2 chairs. It wasn’t much, at all. There wasn’t even a window, since he and Jonathan were located in one of the underground hideouts, somewhere in north of Italy.
Then again, this place wasn’t meant to be stayed in long-term. Only long enough to heal, gather their information, and get out. It made sense that it was so impersonal. Additionally, the organization only had so much money to go around. Something that was both true, but not necessarily, at the same time. The heads of the organization were a bunch of aristocrats and nobles, with more money than they knew what to do with. However, they cared little to spare money to make the accommodations more acceptable.
Everyone on the chain, from low to high level, experienced these cold circumstances. It was rare, when anybody was given a normal, and private room. Not even the children of those higher ups were given a pass.
At least the place was clean, and there was a medical room off to the side, with real doctors. Everything else wasn’t necessary.
Perhaps that was a good thing, Dio decided. He would rather not leave his partner alone for any length of time.
At the thought of the man, golden eyes cracked open to look at his direction. A massive figure sat on the cold ground, facing the fireplace. Cross legged. Back straight. Hands in lap. Slow, deep, and steady breathing. Light reflected off the figure, but only enough to outline his silhouette. If one didn’t know any better, they would have thought he was a statue. Dio knew what Jonathan was doing. Point blank, it was meditation. Something that pastors would howl and rave over being demonic, the Joestar Heir took it like a duck to water. For better or for worse, as it was being one of the few things that kept him sane and clear headed.
Dio closed his eyes once more. Right there, flashing against their lids, were memories of their latest mission.
It was a humid, summer night. There were many guards, which the men managed to bypass with ease. A party of some sort has long since ended, leaving behind only the living habitants alone. Aside from them, there were only the expected servants and security. It was supposed to be one of the tougher assignments, which had too many issues and chances, that it left someone like them feeling uncomfortable. However, it went rather smooth, unexpectedly. For the most part, that was. Until one of those issues bared itself in Dio’s face, and he was left with no choice.
One of the most important rules in the organization, was that under no circumstances they were to be seen. If they had, and it was possible, then they were to leave no witnesses alive.
Lifeless bodies laid on the once clean ground. Clear injuries could be seen from a short distance. Only one figure had worse than the others. The true target, who was a known enemy of their nation. The others… they were the family. The other parent. A grandparent. 2 children-
Sharp, shaky inhale broke the silence.
A burning sensation could be felt behind his eyeballs, but no tears escaped. There weren’t any left. He shed the last ones awhile ago, before his body decided that it had enough and refused to create anymore. Or it could have been his mind that decided that. He wasn’t sure. It mattered not that he gave those innocent a quick and painless death. It mattered not that he placed those bodies next to each other, as if that by being together in such manner, their souls could rest in peace. In a twisted way, to try and make himself feel better. It mattered not that he gave the target a more painful death, because how dare they use their family as meat shields?!
In the end, nothing mattered. It would not stop these memories from being added to others, which would haunt his dreams at night. From the looks of things, there was little chance of sleeping tonight.
At least he managed to avoid involving Jonathan in this sickening act, like most times.
For the team of two, he gave Jonathan different tasks. Ones that tried to not involve getting blood on his hands. Ones that involved information gathering, spying, break ins, and more of those nature. Who would have thought that the younger man would be so good at them? Almost a natural. Could break open a high rated safe within less than a minute, that guy. Most of the time, Dio barely had time to blink, before Jonathan succeeded in breaking open a safe. Perhaps that was why the higher ups didn’t put too much emphasis on him to do the killing as well. But whatever small expectation there was, Dio couldn’t protect his partner and lover.
Did it even count or mean anything anymore, that the blonde took on most of the killings himself? What difference would it have made, in the end of the day? Why did it matter, when Jonathan still had to kill in the end?
No, there is a world of a difference, and you know that. That is why you keep on fighting and protecting him. A voice spoke up in the back of his mind. So small was it, that he barely heard it among the chaos of emotions and memories.
Right. That was why Jonathan did these meditation seasons. Prayer meditations, to be exact. To whatever higher divinity that would hear those prayers. In the hopes that they provided answers and healing, that the bluenette sought for. On the other hand, it could be something else. For so long would he stay in one place, that it seemed like the young man begged for some consequence to be handed to him. After all, they were assassins. They couldn’t afford to stay in one place for too long.
Dio wished he could do something about this. He really did. If he had the power to take away the stain on those large, warm, and gentle hands, he would. He would go as far as to take away those memories. To replace them with happy ones, which warmed one’s heart for days. To get his hands on that bastard George Joestar, and make him regret for tricking them into this. Now that would be one death, he wouldn’t lose sleep over. Too bad the old man was a former assassin, so knew all the tricks in the book. To kill him would be hard, but to do so and get away with it would be next to impossible.
George Joestar. A man with a simple “request” (read: demand) for Jonathan to join an organization, whose mission was to protect their empire. The son, a mere 16-year-old at the time, was rightfully hesitant. It would mean that he would have to go to the military. Not a place for someone like him, who while was strong hearted, would never hurt anyone unless he had to. However, of course, the Lord knew how to play his son like a fiddle. Knew what words to use to make it seem so much grander than a teenager’s idea. Knew how to make it sound like he would come out of it as a hero of some sort. How proud he, the father, would be to call him, his son. The travels that Jonathan could go on, which left his inner historian absolutely squealing in excitement.
For a young man that sought approval and love from his father, could one even blame him for falling for that manipulation?
Dio could, but then again, he was equally as stupid to follow suit. But could one really call him as such? All he wanted to do, was make sure his idiot new lover at the time, came out of the ordeal alive. A few years in some military wouldn’t be so bad, when they could leave afterwards. That was the thought process, at the time.
The organization was good in making it appear to be the reality. They had camps set up. There were the expected weapons and activities, which were distributed and created. Everyone equally thought it was the same thing. The poorer among them were even promised money. Everything seemed so… real. It was impossible to look past the lies. None of them even noticed when they were beginning to be taught the more serious stuff. Things that included lock picking, fatal killing moves, knife wielding, and much more. How could they have known that most of these things weren’t taught in the military?
It was almost too perfect, the way the organization managed to find people with no ties to the army.
By the time any of them realized what was really going on, they had no way out.
In a strange way, one had to wonder if the government, or the royal family, knew about them.
But among all the lies, there was only one thing that turned out to be the truth. They really were trained to protect the empire from its enemies. Though, the term ‘enemy’ was rather loose, if one asked Dio. Ones that ranged from petty shop owners or street rats, all the way up to foreign leaders. These people were distributed evenly among the assassin levels. A tier pyramid, one could say. Low levels dealt with the local stuff. Mid level got hired by the country’s aristocrats. Then the highest level, which Dio and Jonathan belonged to, got rid of all sorts of leaders. Anything from a president to royalty.
The duo’s last mission was one that dealt with a leader of some foreign European country, far in the East. Almost on the border of Russia.
Now, they were in Italy. Hiding, like a pair of rats.
Large shoulders sagged. It truly felt like the whole world got placed on them. Slow as a snail, Dio got up once more. Not to place another block of wood, but to make his way over to Jonathan. The younger man has yet to move from that spot, even though it has been several hours now. The older man winced. He knew from firsthand experience, how much those muscles are going to hurt, once they were forced to move.
Suddenly, he was glad that they already pushed the two beds together. Jonathan would not be in any condition to do anything of such sort, otherwise.
For a moment, Dio almost reached out to touch a shoulder. Then stopped. This was the last thing someone would want to do, if they needed to get an assassin’s attention. Few seconds ticked by, before the hand fell heavily back to his side.
“Jojo,” God, was that his voice that sounded so rough and scratchy? That would explain the burning sensation in his throat. When was the last time he talked properly, outside of hand signals? “let us go to bed. It is late.”
Jonathan gave no verbal answer. Only a loud exhale through the nose, acknowledged him. Shoulders shifted along with arms that stretched, which let out loud cracks. There was barely enough energy left, to admire how those muscles moved and rolled. Legs uncrossed themselves and stretched out across the freezing stone floor. The soles of the feet barely brushed against the fireplace. Its heat all but tickled them. Back bowed, hands stretched out to touch the toes. While doing all this, there more cracked noises from weary bones and muscles. Followed by a pained grunt. Dio’s lips twitched into a tiny, barely visible, amused smirk.
His amusement didn’t last long. Not when the giant stood up, and stumbled on the spot, ready to kneel over. The blonde swooped in to catch his partner. A loud hoof escaped him, from the sudden heavy weight. Fingers dug into the fabric of the shirt, as if they tried to grab onto the muscles beneath. They felt how the sudden shift of breathing, from shock and pain, made those muscles move.
“You idiot, when was the last time you drank? Or ate properly, for that matter?”
Dio grumbled. Of course, he knew the answers to those questions. And no, he did not sound fond while saying that. If anyone said otherwise, he would stab them in the eye. Without waiting for a response, which he knew would not come, he dragged the slight larger man over to the beds. Practically dumped Jonathan on the worn-out mattresses. When that was done, he went to fetch a glass of water. The only noises that could be heard, were footsteps and things being moved around, followed by a watery sound. Soon, those heavy steps grew closer, until they stood beside the beds. Finally, Jonathan opened his eyes.
Dio tried not to react to how dead they looked.
There was no sparkle. Not one of happiness, mischief, or anything. When they used to look like the endless skies, now appeared dark as the deepest, mysterious oceans. There was no warmth in them. Not even cold with hatred, or some other negative and heavy emotion. Just this dead stare. It was like staring at a statue, rather than a human being. For someone that used to wear their heart on their sleeves, this was just… wrong. It was like Jonathan had no more emotions to speak of.
Dio’s heart squeezed painfully, but neither men said anything. Not when the other accepted the glass of water. Not when he greedily drank it, and gave the now empty glass back. Not when it returned back to the table. Not when they both finally got under the sheets, resting in each other’s arms. At long last, ready to tug in for the night.
Unfortunately, both men realized real soon, that this was going to be another sleepless night. Perhaps, if they were lucky, with only a few hours of sleep. With much hope that they would be dreamless.
Dio rested on his side. Arm curled up, with its hand tugged underneath his head. Jonathan’s head rested on the inviting bicep, practically eye level with a pale, long neck. The younger man wrapped his arms around a broad waist, practically curling up against his lover’s firm chest. Free pale fingers ran through short and curly blue hair. They drew a straight line from the top until they reached the base of the neck, where they massaged tense muscles, before returning to continue the cycle. Slowly, with time, Jonathan began to relax. He nudged his head underneath Dio’s neck, his warm breath brushed teasingly against pale skin. It was as such that Dio shivered in delight.
The cold no longer was a bother.
However, they were too tired, and troubled to allow for anything more to happen.
Dio wondered what was on his lover’s mind. It used to be so easy to figure out, but now it was next to impossible. When he closed his eyes, all he saw were those dead blue pair staring at him. Frustrated, his orbs opened up once more, and stared blankly at the stone wall in front of them.
He could always ask Jonathan… but that wasn’t like him. He did not do the whole, how are you feeling my dear? shtick. It required a completely different side, suppressed side, of him to come out. It took many months, even years, to get to this point of comfort. Where they could touch, without him flinching. Where they could kiss as much as they wanted to, with no fear of rejection. Where they could have sex, with no anxiety or care of what his inner emotions and thoughts tried to say in retaliation. But to ask about one’s feelings? That was Jonathan’s thing. The younger man was far better connected to emotional side of things, than Dio ever was.
Only problem was, Jonathan couldn’t do it. Not while he was in this state.
A pointed, blonde, eyebrow twitched in realization.
What the hell was he supposed to say? It for sure would not be, how are you.
“Jojo…” Dio began, before he fully registered that he did. “Jojo, talk to me.”
Oh yeah, even better. This was why one should not have Dio, of all people, start these types of conversations.
The name’s owner flinched, before curling further into the firm chest. With clear intention and hope to hide. Arms tightened around his waist, almost to a painful level, but it was manageable. Still, Jonathan refused to speak. When was the last time he said anything more than a grunt or mutter? Dio threaded his fingers through blue locks of hair. In a way, to try and ground the younger man into this reality, rather than any dark thoughts that swirled about in that mind of his.
“Jojo, talk to me.”
That did not come out as a beg. Once more, if anyone said otherwise, Dio would stab their other eye. Perhaps cut off their tongue, for good measure.
Was Jonathan scared of him, Dio? Was that why he flinched like that, when his name got spoken? At that thought, his heart began to hammer in an uncomfortable speed and strength. No, it couldn’t be. If that was the case, then he would have flinched away, rather than further into his hold. Right? Right? Yes, of course that was what would happen. It wouldn’t make sense otherwise. Then again, when did one Jonathan Joestar ever make sense, a hundred percent of the time?
Fuck, this wasn’t going anywhere.
What was-?
“….”
A muffled voice spoke against his shirt.
Dio’s mind screeched to a halt. Right, time to get back on Earth, and concentrate on this instead.
“You will have to repeat yourself. I did not hear a word you said.”
He said in a rather flat and unamused tone. Jonathan flinched. For a long moment, refused to move from his position. As if he found safety only in his lover’s arms, and did not want to face the outside world again. Something that no ordinary person could fault him for. After everything that happened in the last few years, it would have left just about anyone traumatized beyond belief. To look for, seek out, anything that remotely provided some sort of safe heaven.
Sometimes, Dio found himself in such a state as well. Where he refused to talk for weeks at a time. To not allow for anyone to get close to him. To hide himself behind Jonathan’s body, as if his massive and impressive size could scare everything away. At those times, he felt like a child. A child that got scared easily, and ran to hide in his mother’s warm, welcoming, and comforting arms.
Now… their roles were reversed. And Dio did not feel even a hint of disgust or revulsion, towards his lover’s actions. No, the best way they dealt with these situations, was to use patience. Real patience.
“The walls have ears.”
Jonathan finally pulled away, only by a few inches, to whisper into the dead of the night. Words wavered slightly, as if he tried to keep his emotions at bay. Dio’s hold around the younger man tightened. The same one that was completely right in his observation. Just because they appeared to be alone, did not mean there was no one listening in. They have caught sight of enough spies over the years, to think otherwise.
Dio tugged his head down. Pale, cracked lips brushed against a tanned ear.
“Then we will have to whisper.”
He breathed out. Voice level as such that nobody should have heard it, unless they had an ear pressed against his mouth.
Jonathan once more didn’t do or say anything. Not at first. There was no need to even look into his eyes, to figure out what he tried to work out. If it was safe enough, to risk it.
Seconds ticked by.
Dio found himself not surprised, when at last the younger man shuffled upwards. Their upper bodies shifted, until both had cheeks pressed together, and lips brushed against each other’s ear. He tried not to shiver when he felt warm breath brush against his birth marked, dotted ear. Hand that rested on the low bit of his partner’s back, pressed in as a sign of warning. The breathing hitched, but then quickly subsided, until it was barely there.
“I do not wish to be here. I want to leave.” Jonathan’s unused, cracked voice mumbled. Almost watery, by the sounds of it. “I… I wanted father to finally be proud of me. But… but I would rather die, than continue living this way.”
Dio untucked his unused arm, in favour of wrapping it around Jonathan’s waist. Rejoining its twin, as both flushed the bluenette’s slightly trembled body, against his strong chest. In hopes that his touch and hold would anchor this man to this reality, rather than wherever his dark thoughts tried to drag him to. While trying to keep the Joestar calm, he, himself, could not help but feel relieved. It felt like finally there was an opening to get out, for both of them. With no chance of either looking back, or wishing to prove themselves to a man that tricked them into this world.
But how to go about it?
There were only two obvious ways, as people in their profession liked to say. You either ride it out until retirement age, or die for the cause. However, there was a third option. One that nobody said out loud, and few dared to pull off.
“We can disappear.”
Dio suggested. Jonathan froze in shock. A slight head shake could be felt.
“N-N-No, if we do that, then-”
“I will not allow either of us, especially you, to continue going through this. Nor will I allow either of us to die, for a so-called “cause”, that neither of us agreed to or believe in.”
“They can find out.”
“Not if we do this right. It is time to put your talents to the final test, Jojo. Help me make it appear like we died on a mission, and we can make our escape. We will go anywhere you want. Far away from here. Just the two of us.”
Both men pulled away. For the first time in weeks, months, and maybe even a year, those blue eyes showed emotions. Ones of shock, and fear. They were wide, and so visible in the darkness. But the blonde kept their eye contact steady and firm. Tried to appear calm and strong, so to continue to act as a rock that the other needed. To not allow for the bluenette to catch even a hint of his personal, less than confident, thoughts. To grab them, then turn back inwards to his dark feelings.
Whether it worked or not, the results did not appear right away. Whatever inner fight Jonathan experienced, did not reveal itself to the outside world.
But soon enough, they shifted. Face softened into that of thoughtfulness, then knitted into determination. Finally, he gave a barely noticeable nod.
It was decided.
Both men knew this wouldn’t be easy. A lot of careful planning and sneaking around needed to be done. Money withdrawn. New, fake documents created. Tickets purchased. Arrangement for dead bodies that looked similar enough to them. If needed, tattoo their birthmarks where was needed. Damage them enough, so that the truth wouldn’t be discovered. Grab a mission, and then appear to have met their end. They were good at their jobs. One of the best. So, they had to be exact and sure that any plans they created, would work.
But they could do this. They had to. Dio had to. If nothing else than to get both of them, especially Jonathan, out of this situation.
Mark his words, they would prosper through it all.
-ooOOoo-
Many, many, months later, Jonathan and Dio found themselves on a boat. With new identities on them. All their money, which left them reasonably rich. Their boat moved further and further away from their land of birth, and to the New World.
Whether their fake bodies were discovered or not, and what was done to them, neither knew.
How George Joestar reacted to being called to retrieve those bodies, they had no idea.
How the organization dealt with a loss of talent and some of their best assassins, they knew nothing about.
There were only a few things they knew, from passage of time.
They healed, little by little.
Nobody came after them.
They stayed together, more in love than ever before, until the end.
They were, at long last, in peace.