Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion Chapter 194

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: The team have a chat during the helicopter ride.
Word Count: 1215
Rating: Teen (Buffy|Jojo's level violence)
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS

          Jojo’s slack-jawed look when they get to the roof is funny, and the slightly concerned glance he gives to Beefheart in the pilot’s seat is gratifying.  Robin narrows his eyes and tilts his head in the direction of their passenger climbing in with help into the back seat.  See, I’m not the only worrywart around here.  She just rolls her eyes in return, annoyed and amused in equal measures.  Probably thinking something along the lines of That doesn’t make it any more valid.  A group of fools is no less foolish because it’s the prevailing feeling.  Robin grins good-naturedly and clambers in on the other side.  He never thought he’d be getting rides in a German World War II helicopter for his job, but that’s just how it is.
          Maybe that’s why the Father likes seeing Beefheart so much, he muses.  A history buff getting to see a replica of equipment from that era in perfect condition, especially things like a helicopter of which only twenty were built.  He also seems to really enjoy the fact that he’s friends with her, but it’s probably something along the lines of lions and lambs and all that.  (To be fair, Robin doesn’t tend to pay all that much attention to religion; the closest he’d come to a church in years was a single play during college.  That being said, he can see how the granddaughter of a confirmed Nazi making friends with a member of one of the groups at the time considered ‘lesser’ would inspire hope and faith; he’d kind of considered it a more mundane kind of miracle at the time himself.)
          It’s a good thing they’re taking off when they are, Robin confirms, because he spots the oncoming police cars and people pointing.  At least they didn’t assemble a SWAT team or sniper squad or anything, because while this model might have a machine gun, he’s not about to use it against civilians.  He’d rather not shoot them with his arrows even non-lethally if he can help it.  He’s also very curious what the report for this one’s going to say, but he’ll probably never know.
          He turns toward Jojo in the back.  It’s a little hard to tell, right now, if he’s as hurt as he’s acting.  They’re all getting alcohol all over the seats, which would ruin a precious artifact of history if it wasn’t just a recreation and Panzermensch couldn’t just make another.  Speedwagon looks like he’s very tempted to just empty a bucket of water over his friend’s head, but he’s settling with spritzing him with a water pistol like a bad dog.  Apparently being drenched with alcohol isn’t enough of a medium for Lotus Juice to function, especially now that they’re drying off.  That, or he just wants to try to use some kind of Pavlovian conditioning to discourage nearly getting killed.  Robin wishes him luck, because that’s probably not going to work.  “You good back there, or?”
          “Yes, I have it in hand,” Fitz snaps, quickly softening it with a “…sorry.  I appreciate the offer.”
          It’s unfortunately easy to tuck the hurt away, but for better or worse he’s used to it.  “You were really worried about him, huh?”
          The blond mutters something that includes the words ‘reckless’ and ‘death wish’, at which point Jojo protests weakly.  “Hey, no death w-i-s-h-es here!  I like living, where there’s food and friends and…”  He pauses.  “I can’t think of another one that starts with an ‘f’, so I’ll break the pattern and say ‘pop culture’.”
          It’s odd that he spells out the word, but then, he’d mentioned something about magic, so maybe a wish really does have some kind of power after all.  It’s a strange thought, but then, is anything really truly impossible in a world where Stands exist, or just extremely unlikely?
          “Fandoms,” Robin suggests, earning a beaming grin in return.  The color’s starting to return, and his gaze is more focused, so the healing is definitely having some effect.  His breath is also even, meditative, which means he’s probably augmenting the healing with hamon.  It’s subtle, which isn’t something Robin thought could ever be said of a Joestar, but it looks like he’s probably trying not to overexert himself.
          “I notice you didn’t protest the ‘reckless’ bit,” Fitz mutters darkly, but his grip is turning white, so Robin hadn’t really been wrong about that at all.
          “I have Joestar DNA.  It’s kind of inevitable at that point,” Jojo states far too cheerfully.  “It also kind of explains my surviving, because most people are a little more fragile than that.”
          “Where are we going?” Darling asks.  It’s a bit of a surprise, but she’s definitely starting to either become more at ease or just becoming bolder.  Either way, it’s a good change.
          “Where else would one go for sanctuary?  A church, of course,” Beefheart proclaims proudly, with a smile, and since he’s looking, Robin doesn’t miss Johan blanching like a dying coral.
          Neither, for that matter, does Fitz.  “What’s the matter with a church?  You’re not a vampire; you won’t melt on the spot.”
          For one of the first times that Robin can recall, Jojo actually looks genuinely annoyed with the blond.  “Priest.  Thumb.  Ringing any bells?”
          Speedwagon opens his mouth and closes it again, utterly startled out of his own bad mood by the vast faux pas he’d just committed, and Jojo smiles again, a forgiving sort of smile.  Sad.
          “It’s okay.  As trauma goes, it’s kind of out there, huh?  Though maybe it’s the Joestar blood—I recently just learned that I’m not the only one in the family to have really bad experiences with a priest.”  It’s not okay, but it seems like Jojo’s also experienced in tucking away his hurt.
          “I suppose Pretender told you,” Fitz muses, still shocked, and watching Jojo’s face a telltale flicker of the eyes says that the blond is entirely wrong.  But Johan doesn’t correct him.  Odd, but Robin doesn’t have enough clues to piece together the puzzle, yet.  “I—I’m sorry, Jojo.”
          The apology of a man who doesn’t say such things often, Robin notes.  And yet, because of that fact, maybe more meaningful that way.  The Joestar seems to be taking it that way, anyway.
          “Despite his name, Styx isn’t like the other priests.”  He doesn’t know much about them, to be fair, but Styx wouldn’t hurt someone like Jojo.  “He’s pretty laid back, even for a religious guy.”  This coming from someone who isn’t big on religion.
          “If he’s a friend of Beefheart’s and Robin’s, he’s probably a good guy,” Darling ventures quietly, and Robin really wants to ruffle her hair for that comment.  He just smiles at her instead, and she smiles back.  It’s a shy smile, but it’s there.
          “And if not, I’ll protect you.  Or—we’ll protect each other.”  Fitz was such a hypocrite when it came to chewing people out about reckless, self-sacrificing behavior, seriously.
          “There’s no need for any of this.”  Beefheart sounds annoyed on behalf of her friend, but Robin sets his hand on her arm.
          “Let people have their coping mechanisms.  Styx wouldn’t mind.”  In fact, he’d take offense if Jojo abandoned those coping mechanisms just to not hurt his feelings.
          Beefheart grumbles a little, but she settles down.