Lament of the Past Part II

At first, I wasn't sure where all these drabbles about Jotaro were coming from until I realized that I was trying to get into Jotaro's head so I could write him well for Shadowed Suspicion.  Subconscious, sometimes you have pretty good ideas.
~Dreamer~

Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure AU
Summary:  Unfortunately, that conversation's just going to have to wait.
Word Count: 555
Rating: Gen
Warning: Jojo's typical woundage.

            She’s fallen asleep in the textbook when she hears the sound of a key scrabbling at the door.  She sits up and blinks.  It wasn’t this dark before—did one of the lights go out?
            The person who comes in is definitely her dad, and she relaxes for a moment.  Before she realizes something.
            Jotaro can be very quiet, sometimes, but usually when he doesn’t care his stride is quick and powerful.  He’s not moving with anywhere near the speed nor the loudness, and he even stumbles a little.
            “D-dad?”  The word bursts out of her mouth before she realizes, and his head jerks up in her direction, faster than the rest of him is moving.
            “Jo—”  He’s cut off by a coughing fit.  It sounds wet and painful, and yeah, there’s definitely something wrong.  Then he’s asking questions, and he’s asking in Japanese and Jolyne doesn’t know the proper answers.
            “English,” she demands, trying not to completely break down.
            He nods, more exhausted than she’s ever seen him.  She can’t see much, but what she can see is scaring her.  She goes for the switch and he shakes his head at her.  “You’ll only worry more, and I need your help right now.”  Instantly, she’s at his side, supporting what she can of a six foot four giant of a man, and she gets the slightest glimpse of one of the weird, out of place, unreal things, but it’s out of the corner of her eye and she’s got more important things to worry about right now.
            That wetness spreading into her side, she realizes, is probably blood.  She should be terrified out of her mind right now, but her Dad needs her.  “Sofa,” he manages, head dipping down a little on her shoulder.
            Should you even be moving? she wants to ask, but instead she does as he requests and they make their slow, hesitant way over to their destination.  “I’m calling an ambulance,” she states firmly once she’s deposited her cargo, and he looks up with some alarm.  It’s more emotion and strength than she’s gotten out of him recently.
            “No, my regular doctors will do just fine.  Jolyne, please.  My phone—on the table.  It’s in there.”  And maybe even more words than she’s gotten from him in a row.  She hesitates.
            “Jolyne, do you trust me?”  It’s almost like he’s singing.  It’s subtle, but the emotion is there, coloring every note with the paints of the world.
            She loves her father, yes, but he abandoned her.  And yet…
            Maybe this is why.  He sent you those songs.  He’s never loved you any less, a voice whispers.  It’s quieter than all the other words, some of them sounding like her aunt and cousins, but it’s powerful, a steady beat in the chaos.
            “I…think so.”  It’s not as sure as she wants, but from the widening of green eyes ringed with blood visible only at this distance in the poor light, it’s more than he had been expecting.
            “…Then trust me now.  I promise you, I’m not going to die.  I’ll fight with everything I have.”  This, too, is a song in everything but name, and it’s stronger now, with that intimidating, gentle strength that she realizes has always been a part of the father she knew, and she never realized.