Part: Stardust Crusaders
Pairing(s): None
Summary:
What if, Jotaro never really did win the battle against Dio...?
Content Warning:
- death | gore | violence | agony/pain
- vampire!jotaro au
- despair | grief | general angst
- delusion | hallucinations
Word-Count: 2,837
Published: April 18th, 2021
Status: minorly-edited
Kittyccino this is for you [blow kiss]
___________________________________
Every breath was painful as if the oxygen he struggled to breath in was poisoned as it traveled through his body hardly numbing the pain that seared itself along with it. Blood seeped into the concrete below him as it spewed from his mouth as a raging fit of cough forced him to almost throw up. Rubble and small bits of debris from where he hit the ground had pierced his skin and tore through his clothes as if it were all made of butter.
He could hardly even see as darkness formed in the corner of his eyes and was rapidly moving in. He could stand, his knees weak and legs feeling as if they had been shattered upon impact. Jotaro had managed to keep his neck and spine from snaping against the cold Egyptian road, but the rest of his body had been at the mercy of gravity. It was hard to hear too, it seemed his brain could only focus upon the agony that was beginning to fade. Yet, that wasn’t a good sign. He could feel his heartbeat slow, as blood escaped him through dozens of wounds.
Heeled golden boots landed lightly beside his head. Jotaro couldn’t even turn to look at the monster fearing that if he moved, he would only lose blood faster. Dio sneered at the sight before him. The teenager was as helpless as a cornered mouse before him now. Even if he did nothing, the Joestar would still die where he laid.
“Look at you, all out of defiance.” his silky voice carried through the empty air, “It seems that fate has finally chosen the correct victor. I, shall finally be free of the shackles that has bound me for centuries to the losing side. With you, your bloodline shall be wiped from this earth. Your dear mother will die, your grandfather is already gone. Your friends are dead as well – how could I forget them. So, that leaves you, to die all alone.” his fangs flashed in the moonlight, and even through his dying mind Jotaro could feel rage mounting as he spoke.
The blonde bent down beside the dying man, “So - tell me, do you have any final words?” He didn’t receive an answer, instead a mixture of salvia and blood was spat onto his face. Dio’s features twitched with rage and he gingerly wiped it off – his red eyes blazed. With one quick motion his plan to let Jotaro die slowly fell apart as he sliced the man’s head from his body. A fountain of blood gushed out from the stump that was the teenager’s neck. It created a small pool that was the crater Jotaro’s impact had caused. Dio sat there watching until the blood ceased to flow. He grinned and a howl of laughter escaped from deep within his chest, he had won! He was finally free to take this world for everything it owed him.
After a few moments, his laughter died out. His shoulders slumped: and rather than being filled with triumph and joy, or his version of joy, he felt empty. Hollow. His red gaze stared at the body of the Joestar at his feet and he furrowed his brows, confused. He had won. This had been his ultimate goal ever since he realized that Jonathan’s bloodline had the audacity to carry on. A long sigh escaped his lips. “I have everything I could ever want – so why, do I feel so discontent?”
He thought about it, trying to find the answer within the bowls of his own mind. Then, it hit him. Dio growled the sound was inhuman and he clenched his hands into fists – drawing blood as his nails sunk deep into the palms. He had spent two-hundred years locked in complete darkness. Straving to death yet, unable to die. Barely holding onto any shred of sanity and semblance of conscious thought. He had almost become an animal down there at the bottom of the sea, hardly being able to keep himself refined. At times: he had even forgot his name as the agony of hunger had shred through him day in and day out.
This death was too merciful. His eyes lit up and his face stretched into a wicked grin. He would stain their bloodline here and now. They would never be able to erase his legacy from their lips. Dio knew, that this meant he may lose his life here – that he wouldn’t be returning for another go at world domination. Yet, he didn’t care.
This: was how he would become a legend. With a swift motion, he slashed open his wrist and blood came gushing out. He poured the crimson liquid over the stump that was Jotaro’s neck, watching as the body began to soak up the blood. Dio grabbed his head, and he gently pushed hair from the boy’s face. He set his head down upon the end of his body, watching as the muscle, veins and even nerves began to string themselves back together before his eyes. The vampire smiled, and he placed Jotaro’s hat back onto him too. For, the teenager would surely miss it.
There was a moment of silence, and then, Jotaro took in another gulp of air as his eyes opened.
[●●●●●●]
Jotaro sat in the back of the ambulance, his arms wrapped around his body. He didn’t speak. He was trying to process all that was happening, and he wasn’t doing very well with that. Silent tears streamed down his ever-stoic face and he didn’t try to hold them back. How could he? His friends were dead. Polneraff and his grandfather had pulled through, but Iggy & Avdol had been lost. Jotaro hadn’t seen how their lives ended however, so while it stung, their deaths weren't exactly the ones that were haunting him at this very moment.
It was Kakyoin’s. He hadn’t seen it happen, but he had felt it. Jotaro had seen his [Hierophant] spread out and across above him as he drove Polneraff away from Dio. He had watched as they snapped like strings and fell to the ground softly dissolving as they went. He couldn’t tell you how he knew that this meant Kakyoin’s life had ended: he just had. He had felt something tear away from his soul as he watched the tendrils dissipate.
One of the strands had managed to land on top of them, and Jotaro had grabbed at it desperately. He wondered now, if Noriaki had felt that final touch. There was so much agony and grief tearing through his soul as he sat there, head pressed against the cool window, that he wished: he wished he had died with them. He knew this was a selfish thought, but he couldn’t help it.
“I can’t believe it...” Jotaro lifted his head a bit, the person who had said this was one of the Speedwagon Foundation doctors. She had been checking him over for wounds and injuries. He stared at her rather than saying a word. The woman was pale and she was shaking a bit. “There’s no wounds.”
Joseph jolted and he shook his head, “That’s impossible he’s covered in blood!”
“There’s nothing, not cuts, scarps or even bruises. And there are no breaks.” she ran a hand through his hair, her hand was starting to shake too. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
Jotaro shook his head, and his irritation began to replace the grief: it was a bit relieving to feel something so familiar. “Listen, lady. You aren’t very good at your job my arm is broken-” he went to roll his shoulder, to show her he couldn’t move it without intense pain. Yet he felt nothing. He sucked in a startled breath. “It’s...gone?”
Now that he was back in reality rather than inside of his own head, he felt that – he wasn't hurt at all. Actually: he felt great. It was as if all energy had been restored into his body. The only thing he could feel that was mildly uncomfortable were the pangs of hungry running through him. Frowning deeply, he looked at his grandfather. “Oi, JiJi, can’t you use that magic sparkle stuff to find wounds? Maybe they’re internal.”
Joseph shook his head, and he walked over to Jotaro. He took his grandson’s hand and his eyes didn't miss the sight of his nails – they had grown long and sharp. Odd. “It's called hamon, and it’s not sparkly magic. It's life energy-” he stopped realizing that Jotaro didn’t care. He sighed, and he took a deep breathe feeling the familiar hum of hamon begin to dance within his veins. Joseph focused it onto the other Joestar’s hand, but, then, Jotaro was reeling away from him – screaming.
“What the fuck did you do JiJi!”the dark-haired man cried out, his rough voice catching on tears. HIs face was pinched and pulled up into a snarl of pain, showing off how his canines been elongated. His usually tan skin had paled quite a bit, making his complex match that of his grandfather. Then, there was the most startling evidence of all – his hand was melted slightly the edges of where the hamon had made contact were a bit charred. Joseph swallowed and he spoke slowly, his voice shaky. He couldn’t outright say what he thought – it would only panic Jotaro.
“JoJo...was there a point during the battle when you blacked out?” the elder Joestar began, and Jotaro nodded his head, not able to speak well as he cradled his hand. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes, I am... really hungry. God, JiJi what the hell are these questions about!” Jotaro shouted at him, still in pain. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to regulate his breathing. Joseph grabbed the heart monitor and placed it upon the other male’s finger, he watched with growing horror as it read: 0. He swallowed.
Joseph grabbed a blood bag and the nurse who was there was shivering in the corner of the car, terrified. The older man didn’t blame her. Slowly he ripped open the top of the bag.
Jotaro’s head snapped upwards. His nostrils flared, as he took a deep inhale of the air – an intoxicating scent assaulted his senses. He groaned and his eyes glazed over with an almost sensual need, the male licked his lips. Joseph jumped back a bit as Jotaro snatched the blood from his hand splashing it onto the floor as he did so.
A lot of the blood ended up not in his mouth, but upon his front soaking his shirt and jacket with more crimson. As he drank, the wound upon his hands slowly closed itself until one couldn’t tell he had ever been burned at all. After the last drop of life touched his lips, he began to shake.
The teenager brought his knees to his chest, trembling in horror. “What-t’s happened to me? What did he do...?”
His grandfather struggled to put the topic gently, but there was no way to put it gently. Joseph turned away his head.
“You're a smart boy…I think you know.”
[●●●●●●]
He couldn’t tell you the last time he had seen the sun, and everyday he wished he could see a meek sunrise once again. He found himself pacing back and forth in his lavish room, for the SWF tried to make him as comfortable as possible. How could they though? He didn’t need air conditioning or heating. He didn’t need a bed to sleep on, he couldn’t feel how uncomfortable the floor was anymore. He barely spoke to anyone besides his family, but he had been forcing them away for as long as he can remember.
He even allowed the foundation to experiment on him and run tests. It wouldn’t do him any good, but, the more they knew about vampirism the better of a chance, he had at living a normal life. It was a silly wish. A lucid dream that he couldn’t quite escape. Jotaro – would have been turning twenty five today had he not been perpetually stuck at the pathetic age of seventeen. It wasn’t only his body however, but his mindset. He hadn’t matured. How could he, when the future held worse horror than his past.
It wasn’t healthy, but, it was familiar. Jotaro today laid upon his bed, staring up at the ceiling having a polite conversation – with himself. Being stuck in the mind and body of a seventeen year old had rubbed away at his sanity. The entire situation of his life had begun to rub away at it for years: and it hadn’t taken long for him to break. A meek six months since he had defeated Dio, had Jotaro talking to himself. Well: he didn’t think he was talking to himself.
“I'm telling you…I'm going to try and take a moonlit stroll on the beach. They may say they don’t treat me like a monster, but, “the man caught the ball he was casually throwing up and down. “I'm under lock and key. I wouldn’t make it ten inches outside of my room without someone knowing.”
“Mhm, you know - I've never known you as the kind of guy who was worried about consequences.” The redhead flipped his curl from his face, and he flashed Jotaro a teasing grin. “So, why all of the sudden do you care?”
Jotaro shurgged, and he sighed tossing the ball against the wall. “I don’t know..I just don’t want you getting hurt. They may not shot me, but they'll shot you.”
“Shoot me? Please.” Kakyoin sat up and he puffed out his chest, before he flexed his arms. “This steel body of mine deflects bullets!” he frowned, and he narrowed his eyes at the door in the corner of the room, hearing a keyboard being accepted.
“Someone’s coming.”
The ravenette turned his head to face the door, he watched with an icy gaze as it slowly swung open. To his shock, a woman stepped through – dressed in professional clothing. From her sensible flats to her button down shirt, she looked as if she was all business. She carried a clipboard with her along with a briefcase. Her hair was a bit strange, with one large portion of hair swept to one side, while the rest was tucked behind her ears gently curling in at the bottom.
Other than that, she looked insignificant enough: with brunette locks of hair and hazel eyes.
She didn’t even have an outlandish figure. The woman gaped at him softly. Jotaro growled baring his teeth at her. He watched as the woman jumped at the sound of the noise, but she didn’t flee instantly. Instead, she fiddled with her I.D badge which hung around her neck, comically too long. With a quick glance he managed to read it.
Marina Eastwood
He huffed. What a dumb name.
“Ah,” her voice had a strange tone to itm it wasn’t as high pitched and annoying as he found most woman's, her voice landed somewhere in the medium zone. It was as insignificant as the rest of her. Jotaro sat up, suddenly, intrigued. It wasn’t everyday he interacted with someone as normal as her. There was something charming by how mundane she was. Marina rubbed the back of her neck as she was caught in his gaze.
“Hello! I'm Dr.Eastwood. I’m going to be your personal well, not exactly a therapist. More like a living and breathing outfit to normalcy. The foundation is concerned for your mental health and they thought if you forged a connection with someone other than your family-" the woman took a step back, finally looking up from the floor where her eyes had been glued. Without her even realizing it, Jotaro was towering above her his shadow casting down upon her entire frame. She gulped realizing just how tiny she was compared to this man. Marina bit into her lip, trying to remain calm. “What are you doing…?”
She wondered if the rumors of him killing nurses was true in that split second. Then, she felt a hand upon her shoulder, and while she could hide the fear that was plunging through her from her face – she couldn’t keep her knees from buckling a bit. Who could blame her as the man leaned forward, and breathed in her scent it seemed. Jotaro pulled back after a moment, he paused and seemed to turn his attention to the empty air beside him. He nodded his head, as if responding to some invisible voice, before he turned back to Marina.
He stepped back, and he smiled softly. “I like you.”
Marina had never let out a more relived sigh, in her life.