Work Text:
Jonathan was dying.
There was no need to beat around the bush. What would be the point? Not when the elderly man didn’t mind it, nor thought much of it. If anything, he welcomed it with open arms. Unlike everyone else around him, who were so anxious and determined to save him. That begged the question. How do you help an old man that was more than a century old from the brink of death? Even after he mastered hamon so long ago, it didn’t mean that he turned into an immortal and was forever out of death’s reach.
Then again, he had been around long enough that he managed to meet his many times, barely month old, newborn great-granddaughter. For heaven’s sake, his grandson was a great-grandfather himself! To the Joestar family, Jonathan may as well have been an immortal. Not even his wife, son, and daughter-in-law lasted to this day. Looking at Joseph’s deteriorating condition had concluded that he may outlive another Joestar.
Though, Jonathan mused to himself, perhaps that would not be the case.
It wasn’t even an illness that was going to do him in. No. It was simply his body has given up and refused to co-operate with anyone under the sun and heavens. It wanted an out, and so did he. No human ought to live this long. It wasn’t natural. What was he supposed to do with this body anyway? It no longer stood on its own two feet, even with a walker or cane. His hands shook so severely that he couldn’t eat on his own. That was if he managed to keep any food down to begin with. Eyesight so poor that barely any prescription could help. More wrinkles than he knew what to do with. Somehow there was still a headful of hair left, as thin and white as they were. All those muscles that he was known for in his youth were gone, replaced with a too thin body hanging on weak bones.
Really, his family would do him a favour to let him go already. Instead, his unfortunate being continued to be pumped with more medicine, which stressed his heart more than it already was.
Blue wrinkled eyes watched as nurses went about their routine, then left him alone in his spacious, lonely hospital room. A long, barely audible, sigh of relief rattled his chest. Now, those same eyes turned to stare down at a photo album in his lap. It was one of the few he requested to be brought to him by Jotaro. Thin finger caressed its brown spine, barely held together by glue and tape. Handsome Persian blue cover had aged poorly to a murky, almost black, shade. Even the intricate patterns all over its front and back, once painted white, were now deep grey. No amount of cleaning would have improved anything. Jonathan would know, he tried. Only thing he accomplished was getting rid of this nasty old smell that developed over the years. Presently, it didn’t smell like roses, but it was certainly far better than it used to.
Still, the old thing looked well used and dearly loved, even for its sad appearance.
Jonathan took his time to flip through its pages. Careful he had to be, with how shaky his hands were. An old but familiar action, repeated over the many years. Each page contained two photos each. All in black and white, surrounded by aging beige colour. Skin brushed against the cover of those pages and felt rough texture underneath. Much unlike its original smoothness. All those photographs shown were from his youth, even before the death of his father. They were all well worn and decorated with a few rips.
There was a fair amount that contained George Joestar. The mere sight of the previous head made Jonathan smile wistfully. There were many times he wished to have sat together with his father, then recounted to the complex man stories of his adulthood. Ones that surrounded him and his growing family, career, and experiences. Jonathan was certain that it may have smoothed some of the harshness that never seemed to leave his father’s being. Then again, perhaps it may have worsened them, since his son participated in events that would have earned him a whack to the back of the head. Some such events were the first gay parades both in England and America, to show support both for himself and his ever growing and changing family. After all, he could barely count on one hand how many straight people were in this family. Not that his father would have understood, being both a man of his time and never had to deal with the things that Jonathan and his descendants did.
Then there were pictures of his old university rugby team. That was met with neutrality. No matter how long he stared at those faces, most he couldn’t recall for the life of him. No names, no family ties, no hopes, no future careers, no nothing. Sure a few were met with some emotions, but for the life of him, he couldn’t attach a memory. If any relative investigated this album and asked about them, he’d only shrug. Sometimes, Jonathan wondered how they were, and hoped they lived good lives.
That left only one person, who took up the rest of the album’s space. That individual always made him pause.
Dio…
Jonathan wasn’t sure how long he sat there and simply stared. No matter how many times he flipped through this book, he always ended up like this. Now, been given the privilege of living a long life had left him grateful for many things. One of those was that it gave him time to examine his relationship with Dio, and all that happened years ago.
To say their relationship was complicated, barely touched the tip of the iceberg. Their dynamic was multi-layered in terms of being enemies, friends, and lovers. From an outsider’s point of view, it was easy to point a finger at Dio and say it was his fault. After all, the blond was the most unstable one in their relationship. Jonathan would argue that not only was it on them both, but also outside circumstances. Between less-than-ideal family dynamics (on both sides), society’s expectations, and lack of genuine mental health care (for Dio), it was surprising that they managed to make it work at all.
Not for the first or last time, Jonathan concluded that things would have been vastly different if they were born in these modern times. While still not ideal, it was far better than the late 19th century. It would have given Dio, the sane version and one he loved, more opportunities and help than he initially received. Perhaps it would have saved him from the insane decision to turn away from humanity and become a creature of the night. Thus, sealing everyone’s fates. What a life they would have led, in these modern times. So different and better than the bad hand they were dealt with.
Not to say that Jonathan didn’t love or value Erina. It was quite the opposite. She was his wife and one of his dearest friends. He would never look down on their marriage and friendship, regret it, or wish for anything to change. After all, she was his rock, voice of reason, and gave him this amazing family to love and watch over. A family whose number seemed to only grow, with members that practically popped out from nowhere these days. A sharp contrast to his lonely childhood, with only his father.
How could Jonathan dare to demand for anything else?
Even so… it didn’t change his thoughts and feelings towards Dio. Erina may have been his first crush, later wife, and mother of his children. However, Dio was the one that made the most impact in his adolescence and early adulthood. One that followed him to this day. Confidence that allowed him to take on the world. Ability to take a situation and turn it in different ways until he found a solution. Peek physical health, easily obtained thanks to their rugby matches, after Dio dared him to join. Silence, keen observation, and sneakiness that would never have been earned, if not for their relationship. What trust and growth looked like. That when things weren’t perfect, it was okay. How to accept one’s true self, even if it didn’t match what society expected of you.
Then love… with its twist and turns. Beauty that took one’s breath away. Ugliness that made you grind your teeth and want to either smack your significant other or leave. Patience that seemed to be tested again and again. Passion that turned their world upside down in quick succession. Those sweet moments, which brought only peace, deep love, and adoration when looking upon the other. Secret moments, where kisses were stolen, and sweet nothings were whispered into a redden ear.
Jonathan was sure he’d have learned many of these things later in life. However, it didn’t change the fact that it was still thanks to Dio all these things were experienced and accomplished. What a shame it was, that it all came to a head because of poor decisions on both their ends. Dio, with the poisoning of the previous Joestar Head. Jonathan, with not having destroyed the ancient mask the moment he learned of its true nature.
Not that it mattered. Not anymore. Forever more, would Jonathan be imprinted with the image of Dio’s vampire body burning to ash underneath the warm sun. In the following years, he couldn’t view the morning sun with the same fondness as he once did. Now, he couldn’t help but muse over how poetic the tragic scene was. It felt like he watched a phoenix on its burning day. One where they burned to ash, only to be reborn anew. Except, this rebirth never happened in its classical form. Instead, it set free a trapped soul.
While others cheered, Jonathan silently prayed that his former lover’s soul finally found peace.
Jonathan sighed at the once more complex feelings. With great care, he closed the decaying old photo album, and placed it on an overbed table to his left.
Old, deteriorated body leaned heavily against its hospital bed. Adjusted to a half-seated position for his comfort. Snuggled underneath a rather pleasant, heavy blanket. Arms rested on top, one with an IV jabbed in. Blue eyes closed, with hope to have a restful sleep this time. It seemed no matter how long he napped these days, fatigue continued to weight heavy on his ancient bones. Rather, it only worsened with time. Only sounds heard were that of hospital machines in his room, and a clock on the wall. Strong, chemical smell hung heavy in this hospital room. Much to the annoyance of the elderly man. This was one of the many reasons for why he wanted to spend his last days at home, but of course, no one listened.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock
Rustle
Pale eyebrow twitched at the out of place sound. Did another nurse come in? They only left not that long ago. It certainly wasn’t his family, since visiting hours were long over.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock
Rustle, Rustle.
Face twisted into a confused frown. Now for certain suspicious. Why weren’t there any footsteps? Where were the nurses or doctors waking him up for further questions and tests? Heavy eyelids blinked open. Temporary blur greeted him. Against the bright hospital walls, stood a large silhouette. One that wore all light-coloured clothes. Back turned to him. Body hunched over his overbed table. More rustling noises were made. It wasn’t the vision clearing that made anything click. It wasn’t the bright golden hair, oh so familiar, that made him pause. Instead, it was a smell. A gentle aroma, all too familiar. One of roses, which didn’t assault his senses so aggressively like many others. His old heart raced at the mere whiff of it. Mind assaulted with memories, and a single name.
“Dio?”
Jonathan rasped. Full of confusion, shock, and deep longing and hope. At the sound of his name, what could only be the ghost of his former lover turned to face him. Sharp, hawk-like golden eyes stared down at him with a frown. The figure sighed. As it spoke, a pale hand reached over to his face. Gentle as a feather, lowering his eyelids.
“We shall speak later, Jojo. Sleep.”
Against Jonathan’s wishes and clear struggles, his body followed the command, and welcomed him into the world of dreams.
-ooOOoo-
Jonathan’s first thought upon awakening, was that he must have hallucinated the whole thing.
That opinion stuck for barely a few seconds. A mere look around had him spot the familiar figure once more. Having taken resident upon one of the few chairs, with a familiar book in hand. Completely engrossed by its contents. Even with poor eyesight and not having his glasses on, the elderly man realized that it was his photo album. Why would his former lover look through it? From what he remembered, sentimental was not part of Dio’s nature.
Jonathan didn’t know what to think or feel. Too much chaos went about in his mind and heart. First instant thought was questioning his sanity. How was Dio here? Was he imagining the apparition? Had his mind deteriorated to such a degree that it began to believe something that wasn’t there? Then came a recollection of stories he heard, where those that were on the brink of death were greeted by past loved ones. To provide comfort, reassurance, and guidance into the afterlife, whichever it may be. If that was the case, then why was Dio here? Why not Erina, his father, or even Danny?
That didn’t mean that Jonathan wasn’t thrilled about this situation, but once more his thought process went a whole other direction. One with a fierce need to drill Dio with questions about the afterlife and what it really was like. When was the last time the elderly man felt like this? The dying thirst for knowledge? To talk with someone that both indulged in his curiosity, but also was one second away from smacking some sense into him. With luck on his side, he could get straight answers from a source that was right there.
But… this was Dio. From careful observation, perhaps it was his Dio. Not the crazy counterpart that took over after that horrific transformation. That meant that approaching this version was vastly different from its vampire opposite.
Still, Jonathan couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not when a peaceful silence rested between them, much like it did in the past. Where they hid away in one of the many rooms of the mansion, wishing for nothing more than each other’s company, without needing to hide behind a mask. As seconds passed by, decades long tension washed away. Only to be replaced with peace and calm. So long was it there, that the elderly man couldn’t help but startle at the stark differences. Fingers twitched. Yearning for any sort of writing utensil and a piece of paper to draw on. Perhaps an interesting history or mythology book, full of marvel and centuries old mysteries. For a moment, it appeared that the world around him shifted from his hospital room, to an old and forgotten bedchamber with a light fireplace in the corner. Dio’s bedchamber, with its many bookshelves and cool coloured toned fabrics. Gentle rosery scent that seemed to forever linger. Soft sunlight slowly disappearing over the horizon, until nothing was left but several candles and the fireplace.
Home. Love. Safety.
A stuttering loud gasp escaped him, as deep longing stabbed his heart. He felt water creep out of the corner of his eyes. Body shook with grief and sadness. Knowing that this was nothing more than an illusion conjured up by a fragile mind. Deaf to the alarming rise and noises to the machines hooked to him.
“Dio…” Jonathan mumbled through his tears. Hand rose to blindly grab at the air. “Dio-”
Strong, cool hands came out of nowhere and grasped around that withering hand. Thumb rubbed against its wrinkled and bony back, in slow circular motions.
“Calm yourself, I am here.”
Though it was said in hopes to calm and provide comfort, the ironic thing was, Dio didn’t do comfort. It became more evident by the awkward hushes and continued pats that seemed to relocate to his head and shoulder. It made the Joestar Head snort with shaky laughter. Head shook with fondness.
“You are so bad at this. Did the afterlife not teach you how to comfort people?”
Jonathan rasped, which earned him a light smack to the head.
“Watch your tongue, Jojo dear, else I will leave your wrinkled old ass behind to haunt this hospital for the rest of eternity.”
Dio snarked. Jonathan’s heart squeezed at the familiar pet name. For so many years, he had longed to hear it again. The sweetness behind it, like a hot coca to warm you up on a cold night. The snide, which made him want to stick his tongue out like a child at the offender. The purr, which sent shivers down his spine and turned his blood into lava. All of it, gone the minute Dio put that damned mask on.
“Dio…” Jonathan felt so tired. So lonely. So many emotions he hadn’t felt in so many years, and to experience them once more... it was hard to handle. So many regrets clawed their way back up to the surface of his consciousness. “I miss you. I am so sorry for what happened. I never wanted you to die, nor be the one to deliver the finishing blow.”
The ghostly apparition sighed. Mattress dipped under heavy weight. Leaning forward, pale smooth forehead rested against a wrinkled one. Blond hair brushed against barely warm cheeks. Clenched hands tightened their hold.
“I have missed you too, you big oaf, but spare me your apologies. To hear it every year on the anniversary of my death is enough to last several lifetimes, and I am not even alive.” Foreheads lightly smacked together. A tiny smile broke through the tearful expression. “I may have been furious at you, at first, but not anymore. I am thankful. The afterlife has given me much time to think and talk with certain people. It gave me the space I needed to heal. Not only that, but I have been shown the sort of life I would have led if you were the one to die. It was a miserable existence. I hated it from a distance, and I cannot fathom what it would have been like to have lived it. You have saved me from that torture, so stop apologizing already. If I hear anymore, I will make you regret it. Mark my words.”
Jonathan replied with a mere weak chuckle. Eyes started to swell once more, from the sheer relief and forgiveness that he sought out for so long. Blue eyes fluttered, at the gentle caressing hand on his cheek. He leaned into the touch, noting how it grew warmer as the seconds went by. Somewhere in his mind, heart, and soul, the man knew what it meant.
“Stay? Please? I… I do not want to be alone.”
“Of course. That is why I am here. Take your time.”
No more was said. The duo stayed in their position, breathing in union. Beeps from the machines grew further and further apart. Senses seemed to take their time to detach from the world around them. Weight lightened. Weary old muscles and bones relaxed. Breaths softened, until they were barely there. Eyelids felt heavy, so heavy. Jonathan didn’t even try to fight to keep them open. They lowered, until only darkness greeted him. But he wasn’t scared. The warmth and familiar touch kept him calm and comfortable.
One last exhale.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
Blue eyes snapped open. Sharp inhale of surprise. Taken aback at how clear and bright everything appeared. Dio pulled back. Having taken advantage of their joined hands, the blond dragged the other into a sitting position. Jonathan was prepared for pain, in all sorts of places. Ones that he grew used to from his old age. Once more, he jolted in surprise when it turned out to not be the case. From there, it didn’t take much to encourage him to stand up. Back uncurled to its full length. Knees and legs stood strong, not once shaking from the weight of the body.
Jonathan took a moment. Unable to comprehend what was going on. No, that wasn’t true. Realization already started to settle, but nerves were a hard thing to shake off.
Dio didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply stood there. Letting the other set the pace, and decide what to do next. It wasn’t long that either had to wait. Hands balled into fists. Gradually, Jonathan turned around. His breath hitched. In the hospital bed rested his body. It… has he always looked so fragile? Where was the large body he grew into and used for so many years? Since when had he obtained so many wrinkles? Where had his tanned skin gone, only to be shifted to sickly pale? It made him wonder about his family and their desperation to keep him alive. Had they truly believed he could continue living like this? In this body? How was he supposed to survive for another year, never mind decade?
Jonathan wet his sudden dry lips.
Dio leaned forward to grab one of his hands, which jerked him out of his state.
“Jojo, it is time to go.”
“Go where?” Jonathan wondered. Attention shifted. “Heaven? Hell?”
His soulmate smirked with amusements.
“It is a little more complicated than that. You will like it, I promise.”
That earned the blond a head tilt.
“Complicated? How?”
“You will see. Come. The others are waiting for you, and I want to show you the house I made for the two of us. It is similar to the cabin we always ran off to during the summers.”
Jonathan smiled with excitement. Before he could ask anymore questions, the two apparitions disappeared. Having left behind an empty shell for the doctors and family to discover.