Archive of Our Own

"You think she’d comp us if we stopped at Little Caesars on the way there?"

"I'll murder you if we get within fifty meters of a Little Caesars."

Joseph and Caesar step off the ferry that goes between Air Supplena Island and the mainland with postures that scream "all business"...or at least, as "all business" as Joseph can manage. He has his usual confident slope to his shoulders, but his hands are stuck in his pockets and there's a playful smirk on his face. In contrast, Caesar would look menacing as hell if his idea of "dressing casual" didn't include studded pastel pants and a fishnet-spliced crop top.

They’re not making an effort to disguise themselves or appear unassociated with each other, but they’ve made a point not to dress as if they’re undertaking a serious mission. From an outsider’s perspective, this is just an average day for the boys. Nope, nothing strange here. They’re just taking a break from their Hamon training and enjoying a day on the town. It’s exactly the sort of outing Joseph would (and does ) rally for on a near-daily basis. 

But as usual, Lisa Lisa isn’t willing to give Joseph what he wants…at least not on the surface. This quest to pick up a sacred Hamon artifact from the other side of the country and deliver it to a Speedwagon Foundation operative is much easier -- and much more interesting -- than a normal day of Hamon training, so Joseph is more than happy to oblige. Maybe Lisa Lisa’s trying to do something nice for him in her own Lisa Lisa sort of way.

Although, she did make him leave on an empty stomach. That’s cruel -- nay, unforgivable. Joseph already plans on inhaling all the food in his mother’s fridge out of spite tomorrow morning when they get back.

The two walk side by side to the end of the dock, appreciating the scent of the ocean and the cries of the gulls overhead. At this time of day, even the people ambling about on the dock are glowing in the sun’s light. To match these good vibes, Joseph snickers impishly. “Hey, if you kill the guy driving the car, then the car’s gonna crash. Do you really wanna sacrifice your life for the sake of your pizza-related pride?” he asks.

“No, I couldn’t do that. We’d fail our Master if we got into a fiery car crash. I’m willing to concede on that front.” Just as Joseph opens his mouth to brag about his “victory”, Caesar jabs a finger into his chest. “ But that just means I’ll have to wait until we get back. Then, when you’re least expecting it, I’ll make good on my promise.”

“That’s if you can beat me in a fight,” Joseph points out. 

“I have the nerve -- especially if you keep talking.” 

“I mean physically. You seriously think you can take me?”

Caesar smirks. “I thought that was a given.” 

Now that they’ve reached the end of the wharf, the two can see a menagerie of vehicles parked up and down the street. Joseph’s mind spins as he wonders which one of these beauties he’ll get to manhandle for the next couple of hours. One of his favorite pastimes has always been the utilization of a souped-up whip to commit Class-A Fuckery. Now, is Caesar Zeppeli the sort of passenger who’d bitch about every sharp turn and bump in the road, or would he aid and abet Joseph's rowdiness? The possibilities are too exciting -- and that’s coming from the guy who knows what your next line will be. 

Joseph, beaming madly, fumbles a keyfob out of his pocket and gives the unlock button an experimental jab. They hear a faint “ honk ” nearby which alerts them to a car they hadn’t noticed before. This little Subaru station wagon doesn’t stand out much, but it’s a decent bit older and dingier than the convertibles and luxury cars parked beside it. 

Joseph watches the car, the mirth draining from his face, as he presses the button again.

The lights on the Subaru flash. 

Both men curl their lips at the reliable family vehicle. Neither would be caught dead in a car like this.

“She’s gotta be taking the piss, man,” Joseph complains, pressing his hand against his eyes. If he can’t see the station wagon, then maybe it’ll go away. “First she makes us skip lunch to run an errand for her, then she hands us a ride like this?”

“She’s trying to break our spirit,” Caesar breathes, clenching and unclenching his fists. Joseph can’t make the car disappear by closing his eyes, and likewise, Caesar can’t make it disappear by punching it. This isn’t Street Fighter. “It’s probably part of our training -- a test of will. We have to endure this…somehow.” 

This finally sets a light off in Joseph’s brain. He narrows his eyes and moves his hand down to his chin. “You’re right,” he says with a deathly seriousness to his voice. “This is the most important lesson she’s ever taught us. Even under these terrible circumstances, we have no choice but to pull through.”

Caesar sighs. “Oh god. What are you about to do?”

“What Master Lisa Lisa told us to do. Obviously.” Joseph begins sauntering over to the station wagon. The car keys spin passively on his pointer finger. “Hop in. It won’t kill you.”

The pained grimace Caesar wears as he inches closer to the parked car would make it difficult for any third-party observer to believe that, but realistically, Caesar knows that he’s right. 

Man, Caesar really hates it when Joseph Joestar is right. 

Caesar climbs into the passenger’s seat of the car and buckles his seatbelt as Joseph starts the engine. It’s a fine car, all things considered, and it’s easier to stomach the idea of riding in it now that they’re, you know… in it. It’ll just take some getting used to -- and if they’ll be on the road together for eight total hours, then they’ll have plenty of time. 

As soon as he’s settled in the vehicle, Caesar retrieves a map from his pocket and begins unraveling it on the dashboard of the car. Joseph watches him in bemusement as he flattens out all the creases. “Retro,” he remarks, snickering. “You know you’ve got GPS on your phone, right, Grandpa?”

Caesar rolls his eyes as he plucks a pen from his pocket and charts their path. “My phone might lose cell service or run out of battery on the way there. This is more reliable.”

“Eh, whatever you say.” Joseph shrugs his shoulders and puts the car in drive. “It’s not like we need a map, anyway. I know where I’m going.” 

Caesar squints at his traveling partner. “No the fuck you don’t.”

“Sure I do! Just sit there and look pretty, Caesarino. I’ll take care of everything.” 

Caesar receives yet another warning that this is about to go wrong when Joseph presses his foot down on the gas and tears down the city street with a dangerous grin. Caesar’s no stranger to reckless driving -- he does it all the time -- so this speed exhilarates him, but it doesn’t manage to beat out his annoyance over the idea that Joseph could crash the car and cause his death. If it’s his own fault, then sure. If they both wanted to fuck around and they both found out, then that’d be another thing. But him dying due to Joseph’s individual mistakes would be such a stupid ending that the mere thought of it makes Caesar seethe with rage. It’s a possibility he’s always feared, and he will make absolutely goddamn sure that today is not the day that those concerns become relevant.

The city passes them by in a blur as they listen to the Led Zeppelin mixtape they found in the center console. Gradually, large apartment buildings and business complexes give way into densely-packed neighborhoods and family-owned shops. Then, these too are lost to the large countryside estates and sparser, more recognizable name-brand stores just outside the city limits. Joseph and Caesar have both been this way a few times before, but they’ve never had the chance to fully appreciate the scenery before now. These are the last familiar sights they’ll get to see before they encounter the many, many different towns, villages, and cities they’ll pass through over the course of their drive. 

“It’s not so bad,” Joseph randomly interjects into their contemplative silence. “This whole road trip thing, I mean.”

“It’s too early to say that,” Caesar says. “Something could still go wrong.”

“Who cares? That’s not what I’m talking about.” Joseph impatiently taps his fingers on the steering wheel. He’s really eager to get to his point. “This gives us an opportunity to just sit and hang out for once. You’re always so worried about kissing Lisa Lisa’s ass when we’re on the island, but you don’t have to worry about that out here. And neither of us have to worry about climbing pillars of oil or sparring or breathing. We can just be as we are!...or something. Know what I mean?”

Caesar, who’s long since sunk back into his seat with his arms crossed, blows a tuft of hair out of his eyes. “...Actually, I do,” he admits. If his affirmative response surprises Joseph, then Joseph’s trying hard not to show it. “For eight hours, I don’t have to hear you complain about how tired you are or how ‘cruel’ our Master is. It’ll be a nice change of pace.”

“ But , just driving around for eight hours would be pretty boring,” Joseph says. “So we should have some fun.”

Caesar gives Joseph a tired stare. He doesn’t bother asking the question out loud -- he knows that Joseph’s being vague on purpose.

“Come on,” Joseph eggs, elbowing Caesar’s arm. “Say it. And I don’t mean ‘I don’t have to say it, you already know what I’m going to ask.’”

“I don’t have to -- oh, piss off.” Joseph cackles at his (correct) prediction while Caesar leans away from him and crosses his legs. 

“‘What do you mean by ‘fun’?’, Caesar asks innocently, batting his lashes,” Joseph says. “It’s not that hard.”

“Just tell me already if you’re so excited about it,” Caesar demands. “I hate playing into your stupid gags.” 

“Fine, fine. You ruined my comedic timing anyway.” Joseph pouts and presses a hand against his cheek. “Lisa Lisa told us that we had to leave ASAP -- that we didn’t have time to grab food or snacks on our way out. We’ve gotta get there as soon as possible. But --” Joseph raises a dramatic finger, “-- how’s Lisa Lisa gonna know if we made any stops along the way?”

Caesar sneers out the window. “If she told us that this is important, then I’m taking her word for it. We can’t afford to make pit stops or do anything that could put the artifact in jeopardy.”

“You’re too trusting. You said it yourself, didn’t you? This is just an extension of our training. I don’t think this ‘Hamon artefact’ is important at all. Maybe it’s not even real. No, I think that Lisa Lisa’s trying to break our pride and piss us off with this long, obnoxious trip with no food in an ugly car to see how strong our resolve is.” His eyes glimmer with a prankish vigor. “But she never expected that we’d see through her lie! If we stop for snacks and make her stupid eight-hour-drive into something fun, then we win -- no suffering involved.”

Caesar turns to look at Joseph. His training partner’s gaze is fixed on the windscreen, but there’s something oddly inspiring about the devilish angle of his brows. “As much as I hate to admit it, you may be right,” he admits. “But we can’t let our Master find out that we cheated on this test of endurance.”

Joseph gives a thumbs-up. “There’s no way she’ll find out. There won’t be any evidence.” 

“And we’ll have to make sure that our stories agree with each other. You’re a good actor, right?”

“The best.”

The corner of Caesar’s mouth quirks up as he rubs his chin in thought. “Fine, then. Let’s go.”

The two, against Lisa Lisa’s orders, make a quick stop at a convenience store so they can grab snacks and drinks for the long road ahead -- the last shop they can find before they’re  surrounded on all sides by undeveloped land. They both blink, and suddenly, they can see the wide, vast countryside sprawled out before them. Despite their shared apprehension for this trip, they can’t help but let the sight invigorate them. This is what adventure looks like. 

“So. Fun things to do on a road trip.” Joseph eats a chocolate bar as he speaks and drives the car; Caesar gives him a disapproving frown over the lip of his coffee cup. “Let’s see. We could play I Spy. How about it? Go ahead, give me something.”

Caesar sets his cup down and grabs his phone from the center console. “Alright. I Spy, with my little eye, something…shirtless. And filters exist for a reason -- not that it matters. The lighting’s awful, too.”

Joseph doesn’t react to this non-sequitur. “Don’t scroll through your thirst traps in public, bro. That’s cringe.”

Caesar doesn’t say anything for a few more moments -- he just taps on the phone’s screen in rhythm.

“Hey, wait a sec,” Joseph interjects, catching a glimpse of the lock screen on Caesar’s phone. “That’s my lock screen!”

“Oh!” Caesar gapes at the number pad on the phone’s screen as it fades away, replaced by an array of apps obscuring a photo of Joseph, Caesar, Suzi Q, and Lisa Lisa on the deck of a ship. “You made your password my birthday?”

“It was the perfect plan!” Joseph says. “I knew that you knew that I’d probably use a birthday for my password, but I didn’t assume that you’d guess that the birthday I’d use would be yours because that would be weird, right?”

“I tried everyone’s birthdays. Yours, our Master’s, Suzi Q’s, Smokey’s, your grandma’s…it would’ve locked me out after six incorrect guesses, so if my birthday was wrong, then I would’ve given up.” Caesar brushes some hair behind his ear and gives the phone a suggestive simper as he raises it for a selfie. 

Caesar continues taking vogues of himself on Joseph’s phone as Joseph watches him in amusement. “I bet you think you’re pissing me off, but this is actually fine,” Joseph says. “I have no shame. If you’re looking for my nudes, they’re in my Camera Roll. There’s a special folder just for you.”

Caesar lowers the phone again in response to Joseph’s joke and raises an eyebrow at him. “Really? Wanna keep playing I Spy?”

Joseph doesn’t let any of his trepidation show on his face. “Sure.”

“I Spy, with my little eye, something…blond.”

Joseph scoffs. “You just took like fifty selfies, so it’s probably one of those.” 

Caesar’s thumbs dance over the keyboard, with each keystroke making a ‘click’ noise because Joseph’s one of those people who allows his phone’s keyboard to make noises for some demented reason. “Nope.”

“Oh? Hold on then, let me think.” Joseph abruptly slams on the breaks, throwing Caesar hard against his taut seatbelt. The phone almost flies out of his hand, but he barely manages to catch it before the screen protector can receive another crack. Then, his mischief managed, Joseph keeps driving as if nothing happened. “You’re texting Suzi Q?”

“I was ,” Caesar mutters, rubbing the back of his neck and inspecting the screen. “You made me send the message early.”

Joseph appears mostly unbothered by this, but Caesar knows that he’s good at bluffing. His nonchalant demeanor could easily be a lie. “What did you say?”

Caesar shrugs. “You’ll find out.”

While Joseph is a little ruffled by his invaded privacy, at the very least, this bit of rascalry isn’t bothering him too much. He really, honestly doubts that Caesar would be capable of sending their friend anything that would be too embarrassing or too ridiculous to be out-of-character for him. Again, he has no shame. Nothing Caesar does could possibly embarrass him.

Caesar pokes around on the phone in silence for a while longer as Joseph tries to steal peeks at the screen. All he can make out is that his background has been changed to one of Caesar’s selfies and the system language has been changed to Italian. Even if he doesn’t mind the selfie spam, the Suzi Q texts, or the unlimited social media access, that’s really annoying. Or funny. He can’t figure out which sentiment has won yet.

“Oh! She’s typing,” Caesar says, swiping out of Joseph’s camera roll and into iMessage again. He leans in expectantly as the ellipsis on Suzi Q’s side of the conversation bounces. Joseph desperately leans over to try and get a look, but Caesar angles the phone away so he can’t see. His efforts thwarted, Joseph swallows his frustration and focuses on the road again.

A few seconds later, Caesar’s face turns white. “What? Did she send you something embarrassing? ‘Cos you’d deserve it,” Joseph says.

Caesar closes out of iMessage and stares at the home screen, solemn. “Our Master took her phone. She’s asking why you’re texting and driving.” 

Both of them are silent for a while, allowing the melody of Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin to fill the open air.

Then Joseph slams on the breaks again, successfully throwing the phone from Caesar’s hands and sending it sliding underneath the seat. Caesar seems more irritated than shocked by this reiteration of the joke, but all it takes for him to look composed again is a hand through his hair. “What was that for? I was about to tell her that it was me.” 

The energy returns to Joseph faster than Caesar can track it. “Tch, fat chance.”

“No, seriously. I almost felt bad for a sec.” Caesar turns around in his seat and attempts to dig around for Joseph’s phone. “I’m going to laugh if you just broke your phone on purpose.”

Joseph watches Caesar struggle with amusement. “A small price to pay to make you fuck off.”

After an extended sequence in which Caesar digs around under the seat in silence in an attempt to find the phone, he eventually decides that it’s either 1) missing or 2) hiding somewhere that he can’t reach without climbing out of the seat. And while Caesar is a known lawbreaker who is no stranger to riding in a car without a seatbelt, considering Joseph’s love of hitting the breaks at random intervals to throw him off-balance (and splash coffee onto his face mid-sip, much to his disgust), doing so now would be an open invitation for something stupid to happen. 

Instead, the two sit in the car, finally at peace. Caesar appreciates the wind in his hair as he watches the trees and shrubbery flash past his window. 

“Okay. Since you ruined I Spy, let’s move on to ‘Things To Do On A Road Trip Issue #2’.” Despite the fact that it’s only been around five minutes since the Phone Saga ended, Joseph already looks bored enough to fall back in his seat and start groaning out complaints. Caesar barely spares Joseph a dissenting glare as he’s blamed for ruining their “game of I Spy”.  

“What do you suggest?” Caesar asks, not giving the question any thought. He’d be more than content to continue staring out the window and appreciating the chill vibes in the wagon.

“I was kinda getting at it earlier, but between training and everything else, we never get a chance to just sit and talk.” Joseph glances over at Caesar. To his surprise, his driving partner seems somewhat intrigued. “So let’s have a nice chat. Just me and you. Man-to-man. Heart-to-heart. Titty-a-titty.”

Caesar snorts. “You mean ‘tête-à-tête’.”

“Yeah, yeah. Blah blah Italian shit.” Joseph flippantly waves his hand. 

“It’s not Italian, you ass -- it’s French.”

“Whatever. It’s basically the same thing.” 

Caesar takes a breath. “For your sake, I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that.”

Even though Caesar didn’t take his bait, Joseph looks like he’s caught a massive fish. “Anyway! Onto the meat. Me and you are talking like friends now.”

“You can’t just announce that we’re about to have a meaningful conversation. It has to happen naturally,” Caesar says with a scoff.

“Takes two to tango,” Joseph points out. “I just wanna make sure we’re on the same page with this. We’re not just shooting the breeze the whole time. That’d be worse than saying nothing.” 

“Okay, fine. Let’s get deep.” Caesar has a face that seems to imply that he’s only playing along with this. “I should probably tell you that I’m glad you didn’t leave after we defeated the Pillar Men. I was sure you’d give up your Hamon training and run off, never to be seen again.” He flashes a mischievous smile. “Actually, Suzi and I had a bet going the whole time. She said you’d be gone within a month once the Pillar Men were taken care of. I said you’d be gone before the end of the week.” 

“You’d never shut up about it if I let you get better than me, so I can’t just leave. Even if I really want to.” Joseph bites his lip as he stares through the front window. “I mean, why do we keep training for no reason? It seems like a waste of time.” 

“Well for one, Hamon training helps you maintain your youth. That’s why you need it. I can tell just by looking at you; the years aren’t going to be kind to that face of yours.” 

“What?! Bullshit! I don’t need Hamon to look hot. I’m gonna be sexy forever.”

“Oh, I’m sure. You’ll have admirers hanging off of your flabby, withered arms when we’re seventy.” 

“And you’ll still look like a slutty frat boy.”

“You’re one to talk!”

“Yeah, I know!” Joseph grins and runs a hand through his hair as if to illustrate his point. “But really, honestly -- why do we still train if we have nothing to train for?” Joseph pauses for a second. “Is it just an excuse for us to hang out? Because we’re scared that we won’t have any reason to see each other if we’re done?”

Caesar squints at him in confusion. “ Scusa ?”

“Have you ever been hypnotised before? The way they show it on TV makes it look like the dude controls everything you do, but in your head, you have to let him order you around if it’s gonna work." Joseph catches Caesar’s eye for a second. "I don’t like training, but I let you drag me into it because I want to get dragged into it. Because I like spending time with you, and doing that’s not gonna be this easy when I go back to New York.” 

Caesar raises an eyebrow. "You could just... not go back to New York."

"And then what, we're Italian roommates? We grow moustaches and run a pizzeria together? I pretend to know Italian for the rest of my life? I can't do that." Even though his tone is joking, Joseph's eyes appear mournful. Meanwhile, Caesar only looks more and more frustrated with every new detail of Joseph's shitty CaeJose AU that would offend Italians everywhere. “No, I’m already married to my taste in pizza. I can’t betray my principles and create a competing chain with your name on it.”

Caesar stares at Joseph, his lips pursed. He’s already starting to put the pieces together.

An evil smirk crawls onto Joseph’s face. “Pizza pizza.”

Caesar shrieks like a mountain lion as Joseph presses his foot hard against the gas, forcing the usually-docile Subaru station wagon to growl like an animal, rear back, and rip down the country road. “ YOU MOTHERFUCKER!! ” Caesar screams, ripping the map off of his chest and desperately trying to read it despite the wind in his face. “ WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE?! ” 

Joseph laughs maniacally as the scenery around them becomes blurred. “Test of will?!” he questions, showing off all of his teeth. “Can’t test our will if you’re not here, mom !”

“I’m going to kill you!” Caesar yells, desperately trying to reach towards the steering wheel so he can halt their progress. Joseph, however, is doing a fabulous job of holding him back with his left hand while he steadies the wheel with his right. 

“ We come from the land of the ice and snow! ” Joseph cries, scream-singing along to the song over the speakers. “ From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow! ”

And then their car leaves the pavement. 

It happens so fast that neither of them can tell exactly what happened or why -- all they know is what they can see, and what they can see is that they’re zooming through someone’s farm at an incredible speed. “Easy on the breaks! Don’t spin the wheel!” Caesar snaps. 

“I know! Shut up!” Joseph barks back, trying to spin around so they can face the roadway again. However, that’s a little difficult when the roadway’s not visible anymore -- and when the weight distribution on this vehicle is different from what he’s used to. 

And so for the third time on this trip, the world changes within a fraction of a second. Or, more specifically, it flips upside-down.

Everything’s silent for a concerning amount of time. All of the dirt and dust that used to stick to the floor and the seats slowly drifts down to the roof. The remains of Caesar’s coffee dribbles out of its cup and stains the fabric above their heads.

Finally, Joseph overcomes his irritation and squints his eyes open. The car’s intact, but the airbags have deployed. And it’s flipped. Obviously. Not sure why it took him so long to notice that part. Maybe he hit his head or something.

Really, if someone was going to compile a list of all the things that could go wrong if Joseph and Caesar went on a road trip, this would be one of the better outcomes. Nobody’s grievously injured or dead, no civilians are involved, they didn’t lose the Hamon artifact… hell, they’ve hardly had any real arguments so far. 

Or, well, Joseph may be counting his blessings too soon. There’s still a bit of housekeeping left to do. 

“Christ,” he breathes to himself, wiping some of the sweat off of his forehead. “Caesar. Hey, Caesar. You good?”

After a beat, Caesar groans from the passenger’s seat and starts muttering Italian-language, Roman Catholic-flavored blasphemies under his breath as he removes his face from the airbag. “I’m fine,” he croaks. There’s a lengthy pause. “...Let’s get out of here.”

The two don’t acknowledge each other at all as they crawl out of the flipped vehicle; Caesar shaking debris out of his hair, Joseph rubbing his arms to check for any damage. Joseph’s honestly surprised by the intense feeling of peace that’s swept over them now. Just a second ago, Caesar was jerking the wheel out of his hands and screeching murder threats. Now they’re standing together in this wide open field, heads dipped, saying nothing. Maybe the severity of this event has shaken them out of their conflict, or maybe this moment only feels calmer in comparison to the chaos from before. Something something sun rises yada yada. Joseph’s too tired to remember the whole thing right now. Either way, he guesses that tough situations like this have a neat way of bringing people together. 

Joseph gives the hood of the station wagon a petulant kick. “Piece of shit. I could’ve made that work in a better car.” 

“Hey. Come here for a sec.” Suddenly, Joseph’s not able to bitch anymore -- Caesar’s circled around from his side of the car to press a hand flat against his face. Joseph struggles briefly, opening his mouth to complain that he can’t breathe, before he feels the familiar sensation of warm Hamon energy coursing under his skin. Even though Caesar’s fingers are in the way, he can just barely make out the concern in Caesar’s knitted brows. Then, after a few moments, Caesar lets go, wipes something onto Joseph’s shirt, and turns to walk away. “Your nose was bloody. It was probably the airbag.”  

“And you wiped the blood on me ?!” Joseph’s about to make a bigger deal about the burgundy smear on his shirt as Caesar leaves, but he can’t find the energy. It was such a classic Caesar move that he can’t make himself get any angrier about it. “Hah, whatever. Thanks, I guess.” 

Caesar gives him a nod before he returns his attention to the flipped station wagon. “Alright, good,” he eventually says, entirely to himself. “Jojo, stand back.” 

“Why? You think you can flip the car on your own?” Joseph scoffs. 

Caesar spares Joseph a glance over his shoulder as he approaches the car. “Yeah. I’ve done this a million times.”

“For real? That’s awesome! How many cars have you flipped?” Joseph, against Caesar’s instructions, bounds over so he can stand behind Caesar and watch him work. 

“A few.” Caesar turns to see that Joseph’s hovering mere centimeters away from his face. “I thought I told you to go away.” 

“I got shot into space by a volcano! I think it’ll be fine if I stand behind you while you flip a car with a magic trick.” 

Caesar rolls his eyes and turns back to the car. “Fair enough. Just try to stay out of my way.”

Caesar sucks in a deep breath -- Joseph can hear the Hamon energy crackling and sizzling in the air around them. The Italian fixes his gaze upon the beaten and battered Subaru station wagon with a cold look that seems to say, “you brought this upon yourself”. Then, opening his hand, he dips his posture so he can press his palm against the car door and push--

The car bursts into flames. For real. Just like that. It happens so immediately that Caesar doesn’t even react at first. He has no idea what he’s looking at.

“ Caesar !” Joseph gasps, grabbing his buddy by the shoulders, yanking him away from the burning vehicle, and getting in his face. He’s raising his voice, but it’s pretty clear from the crease between his eyebrows that he’s more shocked than he is angry…for now. “What happened? You said that was gonna fix it!” 

“It usually does!” Caesar stares at the now-flaming car in bewilderment for a moment before he glares up at Joseph, his face starting to flush red with embarrassment and anger. “You were breathing directly into my ear! You broke my concentration!” 

“Broke your concentration?! You said you’ve done this ‘a million times’!” Joseph releases Caesar and spins away, holding his head in his hands. He barely resists the urge to collapse onto his knees. “We could’ve flipped it over together if we pushed hard enough!” 

“With your Hamon? I doubt it! You would’ve scrapped the car without even trying!”

“Oh, and this isn’t scrapped?” Joseph gestures aggressively towards the massive fireball behind them. 

Caesar marches over to him and wags a vengeful finger in his face. “The car wouldn’t have crashed in the first place if you hadn’t floored it before a turn!”

“I could’ve maintained my speed if you hadn’t manhandled the steering wheel!”

“I barely touched the wheel!”

“You still waved your hand in front of my eyes! I could barely see!”

“Oh, but that shouldn’t matter, should it?! Because you ‘knew where we were going’! So where are we now, huh?!”

“I dunno, Mr Map, you tell me! Where the hell are we?! Sure would be nice if we could check our phones and find out! But oh no ! That’s right!” Joseph steps closer -- the two are less than ten centimeters away from each other now. “ They’re inside the burning waggon !” 

Caesar shoves Joseph to make him back away. “ Vaffanculo ! That’s your fault, too!” 

“I didn’t do shit! The car’s only on fire because you wanted to look cool!” Joseph pushes Caesar’s shoulder, causing him to stumble backwards a bit.

“You make an ass out of yourself with stunts like that all the time !” Caesar yells, rounding back on him. “I hesitated before because we still had a mission to accomplish, but we can’t salvage that car. It’s fucked. We failed the mission.”

Joseph flashes a challenging smirk. “So now what? You’re gonna kick my ass like you said?”

“ Yep !” Joseph’s legitimately surprised when Caesar’s fist smashes into his chin -- and he’s even more surprised when that’s followed up with a jab from his left. 

“Caesar, you fucker! That hurt!” Joseph immediately counters with an uppercut, and although Caesar loses his balance briefly, he doesn’t look much worse for wear as he uses the momentum to fuel a kick at Joseph’s midsection. Joseph’s barely able to duck out of the way, but he doesn’t have the time to counterstrike before Caesar throws his hand backwards and strikes Joseph with a volley of Hamon-infused bubbles. 

Caesar’s about to get in close for a finishing punch, but Joseph manages to deflect the uppercut with a punch of his own. This combos into yet another successful punch to Caesar’s chin, and while his opponent’s started to look dizzy at this point, Joseph knows that Caesar’s not about to let up as he takes a step back and adjusts the gloves on his hand. 

Joseph’s not about to get blindsided again. As soon as he hears the first syllable of “Hamon Cutter” leave Caesar’s lips, he rushes in -- the Hamon-charged bubbles whiz past his body as he sprints forward. He can only take pride in the shock on Caesar’s face for half a second before he smashes into Caesar’s chest and tackles him to the ground. Another pair of bubbles just barely miss Joseph’s face before Caesar’s body is pinned. 

“Calm your tits!” Joseph growls. It’s taking a lot of his power to stop Caesar from bucking him off or hitting him again, and even then, he’s enduring a couple knees to the ribs that would hurt more if he wasn’t so hyped up on his own adrenaline. “You’re being a pain in the ass, but I don’t wanna fight with you.”

Caesar’s not screaming or struggling anymore at this point, but his face is still bright red and his heart is thundering like a rabbit’s. Now that his rage is starting to subside and he’s trying to steady his breathing, he just feels…really, really stupid. Being in this position is almost worse than being killed in a car crash because Joseph was being a rowdy bastard. “Get off me,” he mutters. 

“I’ll get off when you tell me you’re not about to swing at me again. I don’t wanna knock you out, but I’ll do it if you don’t chill.” Joseph’s face is unusually mature despite the aggressive nature of his threat. 

They keep watching each other, probably mulling over their options. Finally, after a few tense moments, Caesar lets out a shaky breath. “Fine…I’m sorry for punching you. I overreacted.” 

Joseph doesn’t look happy, but there’s some relief in his voice. “Yep, you sure did. You’re lucky I’m counting that tackle as a hit. Otherwise, I’d punch you again to make it even. Now here, get up.” He kneels over Caesar so he can help his comrade onto his feet. Caesar immediately brushes off some of the dirt from his pastel pants, but at this point, the damage has already been done. Joseph would normally feel kind of sorry for him…if this wasn’t his fault. 

The crackle of the fire continues uninterrupted as the two stand apart from each other and try to gather their bearings.

“Y’know,” Joseph says, quickly realizing that Caesar’s not about to say anything, “I’m not looking forward to waiting for everyone to realize we didn’t make it. They probably won’t come looking for hours.”

Caesar passively rubs the shoulder that he landed on when Joseph tackled him. “Yeah.”

Pause.

 Joseph plops down on the ground two meters away from the burning car and pats the grass beside him. “Wanna sit with me? We can wait for the fire to hit the gas tank. It might explode. It’ll be awesome.” 

Caesar places an apathetic hand on his cheek as he ambles over to Joseph. Unconsciously (or maybe consciously), he covers the bruise that’s beginning to blossom under his left eye. “Oh, what the hell. I’ve already got grass stains on my ass. It makes no difference.”

The two sit there for a while, basking in the warmth of the fire. It’s not particularly cold outside yet, but the color of the sky is beginning to burn a bright yellow. The sun will probably set within the hour. 

“Did I hurt you too badly?” Caesar asks, his almost-tentative delivery taking Joseph by surprise. 

Joseph rubs his face. “I think you might’ve rebroken my nose.”

“Okay. I’ll heal it again.” 

Caesar leans over and presses his fingers to Joseph’s cheek. All the while, he doesn’t take his eyes off of the burning Subaru station wagon. Joseph can once again feel the injuries he incurred from that fight gradually melt away under the gentle buzz of Hamon energy. When the injuries are healed, Caesar removes his hand and continues cradling his own injured shoulder.

Neither of them say anything. 

“Hope you know I’m not gonna heal you back,” Joseph says. “You started it.” 

“I healed you. It’s only fair,” Caesar counters, hardly sounding offended or heated.

“That’s your problem, not mine.” 

“Then I’ll break your nose again.”

“Okay, okay! Jeez.” Joseph roughly moves Caesar’s hand out of the way so he can heal his shoulder, glowering all the while. “You get to keep that bruise on your face, though. You deserve to have everyone stare at it ‘till it goes away on its own.” 

Caesar lets out an indignant huff, but he doesn’t try to argue his case anymore. He seems too tired. 

Once that’s done with, Joseph slumps to the ground with an irritated grunt and starts picking at some dirt on his pants. “I didn’t want to do that, but you made me feel sorry for you,” he grumbles. “Only for a second, though. I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” 

“Why? We haven’t gotten into any real disagreements lately.” Caesar leans back against his hands, appreciating the absence of pain in his shoulder. “Nothing major, anyway.” 

“No, not lately. But this has been bugging me for a long time now.” Joseph squints at the embers floating off of the car. “Isn’t it kinda fucked up how I didn’t hear anything about your past before you went and tried to feed yourself to a Pillar Man? ‘Cos I think that’s kinda fucked up.” 

Caesar closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of the heat on his face. “You’re still mad about that?”

“Uh, yeah ?” Joseph slaps the ground to get Caesar’s attention. It doesn’t work. “We did everything together every day for an entire month, but I had to find out about your dad from Lisa Lisa. Do you know how terrible that felt?”

Caesar cringes, still refusing to open his eyes. “If you were interested, you could’ve asked.” He sighs. “ Mamma mia . You sound like such a girl.” 

“You wanna talk about sounding like a girl? ‘Cause you sound pretty damn girly when my--”

“Shut up .” Caesar doesn’t shout, but the words’ sharpness combined with him sitting up gives the demand a lot of power. He doesn’t say anything else for a few moments -- he just leans back again so he can face the sky. When he finally speaks, his tone of voice has taken a sharp dive. “...I’m sorry. I didn’t think it mattered. I never assumed that you’d care.” 

“Why wouldn’t I? It only seems fair, y’know. I made you freak out about those wedding rings, so now you get to freak me out with your baggage. Whatever your baggage is.” Joseph raises his eyebrows. “Because you still haven’t told me .”

Caesar chuckles. “Are you trying to threaten me into opening up for you?”

Joseph shrugs. “It’s not a threat. We just don’t have many choices right now. If we’re gonna be here for a while, then you’d may as well spill your guts so we don’t die of boredom.” A smile breaks across his face. “Unless you wanna try fixing the car with Hamon again.” 

Caesar nods his head considerately. “Yeah. I guess we don’t have a choice, then. But this is sacred ground, got that? One snide remark and I’m never speaking to you again. No exaggeration.”

Joseph winks. “Don’t worry. I’ll try and be nice.” 

Caesar has been training to master his Hamon for a long time now (or at least, a long enough time that a 20-year-old would think of it as a ‘long time’). Joseph’s combined training hours pale in comparison, but a few months of training with Lisa Lisa is enough to make anyone proficient with the powerful life energy that courses through the world. This Hamon was used to dispose of the sinister Pillar Men some time ago, and it continues being used to hone their bodies, minds, and spirits. It’s the ancient, primordial power that resides in every living creature that thrives under the sun.

This is a power that is capable of healing wounds. This is a power which is capable of stopping hearts. This is a power which can destroy gods.

And yet, that night, Joseph Joestar and Caesar Zeppeli used their Hamon in order to hunt and cook the wild birds they found while they camped beside the charred remains of their rental vehicle. Caesar almost refused to partake in the practice, believing that it was disrespectful to the art of Hamon that his ancestors revered. However, when the pain in his stomach became too great to ignore, even he fell to the temptation of fresh pigeon meat. It was disgraceful, but it was done for the sake of survival. His grandfather would likely understand his predicament and forgive him for this trespass.

And when he curled up on the grass for the night, he wasn’t sure how many more times he’d need to do that before someone would find them. They were more-than-likely on the outermost border of someone’s property and miles away from the road. It may take days before anyone notices that they’re out here. 

As Caesar laid his head to rest, though, Joseph stayed awake for a while and stared at the vast span of the Milky Way Galaxy hanging above their heads. Who knows what he may have been thinking about at that moment, if anything. Maybe he was contemplating everything that Caesar told him. Maybe he was worrying about his Granny Erina (since the destruction of his phone made it impossible for him to send her his usual goodnight text). Maybe he, like Caesar, was wondering how long he’d have to wait before he could go home and figure out what he would do with himself from now on-- go home and contemplate the inevitable phase of his life in which “home” is no longer “Air Supplena Island”.

Whatever Joseph was thinking of, his thoughts are interrupted when, from the darkness, a massively muscular man wearing very little clothing approaches him and Caesar where they lay beside the burned-out car. “Joseph Joestar,” the never-before-seen Pillar Man says, his disturbingly-deep voice bouncing around in Joseph’s head. He can only see his muscular frame in the corner of his eye, but Joseph already knows that this isn’t just a civilian. “Have you retrieved the Enigma Mechanism?”

Joseph turns so he can face his herculean foe. Then, recognizing what he’s here for, Joseph sighs dramatically and throws his head back. “No.”

“Oh.” The nameless Pillar Man stares listlessly down at Caesar’s sleeping body and Joseph’s lack of interest in the idea of a fifth Pillar Man. Eventually, the ancient creature takes a hesitant step away and stares down at his feet. “...Let me know when you retrieve the Enigma Mechanism.”

“Sure, bud.” Joseph closes his eyes and ignores the Pillar Man as he backs into the inky blackness of the night and disappears again. 

Eventually, as Joseph sits under the sky with his eyes closed, he drifts off to sleep without realizing it. In his mind dance assorted images from the exciting day he just shared with Caesar, between the fun of making him spill coffee all over himself and the excitement of their fight and the raw emotion contained within their most recent conversation. 

Joseph was so exhausted by all of these events, in fact, that he isn’t awake for the moment when a pair of headlights finally illuminates him and Caesar in their abandoned field. Caesar sits up, rubbing his eyes, as he recognizes a large silhouette standing against the light. He’s still trying to put the pieces together when a loud voice exclaims, “Boys! I’m so glad I finally found you! Are you both okay?”

Caesar can’t hide the relief from his tone. It’s like a buff, wingless angel has descended from heaven to usher them through the Pearly Gates. “Signor Speedwagon?” 

“Yes, that’s right.” Speedwagon wears a genial smile as he approaches them and kneels to look them over. His eyes fall upon the destroyed Subaru station wagon behind them and the injuries on Caesar’s face. Finally, after letting all of these images register in his mind, he remarks, “Blimey, you lot’ve had a long night, haven’t you?”

Caesar doesn’t know what to say to that, so he diverts the course of the discussion a bit. “I’m sorry for causing you all this trouble,” he says, turning away. “We weren’t able to retrieve the artifact as Master Lisa Lisa requested.”

“Don’t worry about the artifact. It’s not going anywhere fast. I’m just happy to see that you’re safe.” Speedwagon offers Caesar a hand. “Here. I’ll find you someplace to rest ‘till you can catch a ride on the ferry in the morning.” He casts his gaze down at Joseph (whose sleeping form is currently weighing down Caesar’s side) and chuckles. “Out like a light, I see.” 

“Yeah. Flipping the car must’ve exhausted him,” Caesar retorts. Although there’s some scorn in his tone, it doesn’t stop him from lifting Joseph under his armpits and supporting half of his weight on his shoulder as he and Speedwagon drag him to Speedwagon’s pickup truck. 

It’s not easy, but Caesar and Speedwagon are able to ease Joseph into the backseat of the pickup truck and safely secure him (somehow) so they can put an end to this stressful night. Caesar’s heard that the proper authorities have already been contacted about the damage done to the land they invaded with the car (and burned with the car fire), but at least for tonight, he can’t make himself worry about the expense Speedwagon will have to pay on their behalf. All he’s worried about is the cool feel of the closed window against the bruise on his cheek as Speedwagon’s truck rumbles across the grassy field and onto the open road again. 

Caesar would also be annoyed by the fact that Joseph’s returned to pressing his body weight into Caesar’s side, which is forcing Caesar’s injured face against the window, but he can’t find the energy. As angry as he may be at Joseph for getting them into this mess, now that they’re finally getting out of it, he finds that it’s not worth caring about anymore. He’ll let his lack of physical boundaries slide this time.

“Forgive me for asking if it’s too rude,” Speedwagon says, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder at the exhausted pair in the back seat, “but what happened? Did you run into any trouble with vampires, or zombies, or…?”

“No,” Caesar sighs. “This idiot threatened to drag me to a Little Caesars restaurant, we got into a fight, and then he crashed the car.” His eyelids gently flutter shut again. “But at least he’s safe.” 

“Oh. That again.” Caesar’s beginning to fall asleep, so he’s not able to sense the tension behind Speedwagon’s hesitance. “I get the sense that Jojo doesn’t want me to tell you this, but he’s just teasing you. There aren’t any Little Caesars locations in Italy.” 

His eyes shoot open again. His stomach drops. This changes everything. At first, all of this appeared to be Joseph’s fault because he betrayed Lisa Lisa’s instructions and threatened to go to a fast food pizza chain. But with this new revelation, it becomes clear that all of this was Caesar’s fault. He got upset over the idea of traveling to that restaurant. Joseph continued making jokes about the chain because he knew that Caesar didn’t know the truth -- didn’t know that Little Caesars didn’t have any locations in Italy. While Joseph made one of these jokes without consequences, knowing that going to Little Caesars was never a real possibility, Caesar was the one who made a move to grab the steering wheel, a factor which definitely contributed to the crash. It was because of this incident that Caesar attacked Joseph on the side of the road in front of their burning station wagon, leading them to have that melodramatic titty-a-titty talk off-screen during a cutaway.

Caesar is overwhelmed by his negative feelings -- his anger, his guilt, his regret, his anxiety -- over the events that transpired that night. Why? How did he let this stupid joke about a pizza place ruin everything? How did Joseph manage to trick him into believing that they were driving to a fast food pizza chain when the nearest location isn’t even within the same country as them? 

Caesar feels like he’s been drained of all his life. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do with himself now. Should he apologize? Should he step up and take all the blame for what happened? 

In the end, a few thoughtless words tumble from his lips as he watches Joseph’s sleeping form:

“... Testa di cazzo. Ti ammazzo. ”