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madimpossibledreamer~dreamer~
Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: The fight with Death comes to an end.
Word Count: 1250
Rating: Teen
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS.
It’s dark and cold, and he hates it. This useless feeling. He thought he’d left it behind, a snake shedding its skin and ridding itself of things best left in the past, and yet it’s as if that disembodied skin has snuck up on him, engulfing him once more, strangling him and making it hard to breathe.
He can’t see the dark. Opening his eyes will yield no difference. He doesn’t bother. It’s better to have the hope of opening his eyes and seeing something than actually doing so and having his hopes dashed.
He could call for help, but no one would come. He is alone. And he can’t even find his voice. He opens his mouth, tries to scream or say something, but nothing comes out.
He’s shaking uncontrollably.
“Come on, Giorno. Get up.”
He knows that voice.
“Don’t open your eyes until you’re back.”
If he concentrates, he can probably recognize the voice, but something in him—his Stand, probably—is saying not to try. Like the story of Orpheus, or any of the stories about Hades, really. Certain actions can trap you forever in this endless black.
“You’ve been through worse.”
They all have. He knows this. It’s hard to remember with this feeling from the past haunting him.
“So step forward with that golden resolve. You’ve faced the devil, you’ve now faced death. Don’t hesitate now.”
Yes. This feeling was useless. It’s a past he’s discarded in pursuit of his golden dream. Why is he letting this fear, this darkness, hold him back, the Don of Passione?
Giorno finds himself floating above the sensation of death, the pull on his soul weakening. The feeling is no longer one of an endless, hungry abyss, the sort found in the deepest places of the ocean, but rather like bathing in a warm, comforting stream. He’d gotten far closer to death than he’d ever intended, but the end result was what mattered. “You were dead. What did you do?” He doesn’t want to open his eyes just yet, as he can’t be sure he’s back—Death, surely, could exist in the world of the dead and the world of the living simultaneously. He doesn’t need to see to feel that the dark, gloomy atmosphere has lifted; he can feel the rays of sunlight on his skin between the claws. He can hear the shock in the Stand’s voice, now warm and full of life, rather than empty.
He smirks. “You didn’t think I was fighting without a plan, did you?” If he wasn’t trapped beneath a claw, he would pose confidently, demonstrating how little fear he has at this moment. Sometimes, a plan did not require one decisive move, but rather a hundred small steps to reach the desired future. “I did attempt a head-on approach, but infusing you with life with a simple attack was like dropping a pebble into a lake. I wasn’t going to block the stream like that.” The first attack had been a test along those lines. He hadn’t guessed that it would have that much effect, but it had been worth the try, if only to verify the truth.
“However, a multipart ‘vaccine of life’ stood a chance.” Every yell of muda, every attacker infused with his power, the power of life, even ‘accidentally’ hitting himself to infuse himself with life energy, consequently slowing his reflexes and allowing himself to be hit, just as planned.
“You did well at convincing me that you were attacking at random. No one has ever died on purpose facing me, let alone when attempting to give me life. You’re much more intelligent than any other opponent I’ve ever faced,” the dragon muses, carefully scooping him up between his claws and setting him down in a sitting position on what feels like a stone bench. Of course it half feels necessary to carefully ensure the enemy’s movement and moments.
Birds are chirping. There’s the sound of wind, of life, and it’s beautiful. Is it safe to open my eyes now? Am I truly back?
There is no response from a familiar voice, so he opens his eyes. It’s still dark and he can’t see, but it doesn’t lessen the sound of birds or the feeling of sunlight on his cheeks. They’re probably not illusions, then.
If it had gone wrong, well. He did have a backup plan, but it involved giving up on the Stand entirely and merely destroying it using the power of the Arrow. Not having to use that last resort, was, however, a good thing. Not only was the power difficult and dangerous to control, but it would involve breaking a promise, and that was one of the things Giorno truly hated to do.
“That was part of the idea, after all. If you knew, you might not have taken the bait. As this outcome was in both of our best interests, it was better to leave you in the dark.” He has a number of questions, such as whether dragons read. It would be fascinating to discuss, for example, the merits of Machiavelli. But, as unfortunate as it is, he is still in London on business that he has yet to achieve. He’s protected the innocent as best he can, and it is well worth the effort.
He can finally see, and what a beautiful sight it is. The gardens are flourishing. The dead, decaying plants are now bursting into bloom, as they should, and his other senses were correct. The clouds have broken away before sunshine. (Sheila E assured him, before he’d left, that it’d be a miracle if he ever saw the sun in London, let alone if it stopped raining. But he’d earned his little miracle here through hard work and planning, just like he’d approached every other problem he’d come across.)
The gardens are beautiful, just like he’d expected. He’d been right. They were well worth a visit. There’s still that zoo, though, but that’s a thought for later.
The dragon is no longer bony or starved, but healthy and full of life, its scales of a glossy sheen, wings now healed or as good as new. It half feels like this is too fast, like the actual transition is too easy. “I no longer feel my User. I am free,” the Stand (former Stand? Free Stand? …does it have things in common with Notorious B.I.G.?) explains. Well, if the Stand had facilitated this, made things easier, he’s certainly not complaining. “I’ve never felt life before. It is beautiful.”
“I have always found it so,” Giorno agrees. “Do you have a plan?”
“Take life as it comes. Just how actual living creatures do, I assume. I have much to learn, but I look forward to it.”
The dragon stretches its wings, and Giorno smiles kindly. “This is true.”
“I will not aid you in defeating my former master, but I will wish you good luck and continued life.” It flies off, and Giorno stifles a gasp of awe, even as he cannot repress the smile. He can look for the User, but after he’s done taking out the trash, he really should get to the more important errand for which he’s even really in England in the first place.
The dragon, meanwhile, continued to fly, eventually becoming the guardian of Abergavenny, a beautiful market and tourist town in the Breton Beacon mountain range of Wales. Dragon-themed goods became more prominent souvenirs, and the city prospered under the dragon’s gaze.
