![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamer~Dreamer~
Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Fitz and Johan take a moment to catch their breath and tend to their wounds.
Word Count: 1371
Rating: Teen (Buffy|Jojo's level violence)
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS
Battlefield triage is always a challenge. It doesn’t help that Johan looks jittery and panicked. If Fitz were feeling generous, he’d say it’s coming down off the adrenaline high. It’s not even that he doesn’t feel generous toward Jojo; sensible or not he’s always inclined to give the one-eyed man the benefit of the doubt. At the same time, though, he’s only seen him this panicked once before, although this time it’s only a coincidence that his hands are, once again, bleeding, and Fitz hadn’t nearly died. And no matter what he said, the blond is nearly sure the grenade was an accident in a moment of panic. (Worse, he’s not entirely sure that Dio didn’t catch on to that, too.)
It’s not even that he doesn’t understand, at least partially. He’d heard the stories about Dio Brando, villain writ larger than life. The vampire that had declared himself the greatest enemy of the Joestars and then set about earning that title with great enthusiasm. It’s just that—well, it’s ridiculous and probably overconfident of him, but he understands how his mother felt, thinking she was invincible with Josephine Higashikata at her side. He knows that it hadn’t ended well, but something tells him that somehow they will be the exception, as long as they keep their trust in each other, as long as they don’t actually let their trust and teamwork feed their egos too much.
He’d been quipping through the fight using Pretender as his mouthpiece, once it was clear that the vampire could track the movements of their Stands and they didn’t have the full edge of surprise on their side. (Which was another question—did the vampire have the ability due to a latent potential for a Stand, or was it something to do with the nature of Stands as a supernatural phenomenon? Fitz has never considered himself a scientist, but he would be fascinated in an experiment to learn the truth—hopefully, far removed from any situation involving Dio.) He’d even been grim but focused as they laid a false trail of blood and covered their tracks. The act was slightly more of a stalling tactic than a way to prevent them from being found—the vampire was nothing if not diabolically clever. Now, though…now he was quiet, subdued, and jittery.
Of course they have to be quiet, given that they’re trying to hide from someone who can probably hear them breathe with his vampiric senses. But even when he’s not talking, Jojo tends to be loud, rather like Joseph (or so he’s heard). An expressive eyebrow, an expression that speaks volumes, a little hand gesture or movement. He’s curling in on himself a little, like a scared child, eyes lowered and only darting when he needs to look somewhere other than his feet.
“Are you all right?” he asks quietly through Lotus Juice, happily tucked in his little shell in an invisible pool of water behind them, as he wraps Johan’s hands. (The only real reaction he’d gotten, once they’d reached their hiding place, was a quick shake of the head when Fitz had taken out the water bottle to treat the wounds. They were surrounded by water, of course, but it’s not as if walking around and thus making noise wasn’t a hazard in of itself, and of course using any of LJ’s abilities was a bit of an effort. Saving his energy for the fight makes sense, as much as it hurts him to continue to see Jojo in pain.)
That, at the very least, gets a reaction. Johan glances up, snarl on his lips and a burning inferno in his eye. It’s Pretender, overlaying him like some sort of ghost possession, that responds with his words, though. At least he’s not far gone enough not to be taking some precautions. “I should be asking you that. You’re the one whose Stand had a few limbs torn off!”
Fitz suspects he can finally put a name to the emotion consuming the brunet, though he hardly dares believe it. It’s hard to believe how much one person could have changed his life this much in such a short time. Sure, he’d been surviving, living one day to the next. He could fake his enthusiasm about books because it was a passion he’d used to have, so it was easy enough to imitate how he’d felt, at the time. It wasn’t until Jojo held him to his words that neither of them were going to die that he realized how empty, how gray his attempts at pretending he was alive had become. It’s not until now that he really starts to believe that his guilt, perhaps, is misplaced, that he deserves to live, that dying alongside Grace would have accomplished nothing at all. Because this anger, this fear—he’d actually be missed, it appears. It’s a gracious gift that he doesn’t know how to receive.
“It’s not the first time LJ’s lost a limb or two. He’ll be fine.” As if to prove him right, one of Lotus Juice’s tendrils emerges from the ‘water’ to curl carefully around one of the brunet’s elbows, a reassurance that he’s still fine. “I’ll be fine.”
Johan takes in a giant breath, another, and it becomes clear he’d been holding his breath for a bit. That’s probably not a good thing for a Hamon user. When it comes to situations like this, Fitz wishes he’d tried to learn Sendo himself. Maybe he wouldn’t have had the aptitude. Maybe, even if he’d started, he wouldn’t have learned much, before he’d lost himself, in one thing or another. But at least he wouldn’t be sitting here knowing he while could contribute, he just can’t. A fine line he can’t cross. It’s probably the idlest, most useless of thoughts. Using it while his Aunt smoked would have been a bit of a challenge. It’s not like gangs shied away from the stuff either. His lungs might have suffered a little too much in the meantime to keep him in much of practice, but still. It’s a nice thought.
Especially given Johan’s reactions, the ability to serve as any kind of reassurance, any kind of healing balm, would have been nice. Sure, Dio had a presence, but it wasn’t just that, or a reputation, that had thrown Jojo for such a loop. And he remembers the conversation, the man explaining, as if it were perfectly normal, that he caught glimpses of his ancestors’ memories in his dreams. “Jonathan, or Jotaro?”
It’s a mere guess, but an accurate one, given the way Johan looks away once more, refuses to meet his gaze. “Jotaro. For all their interactions, Jonathan never…” He swallows, unable to finish his sentence. Fitz carefully finishes dressing up the hands. Honestly, if he’s going to keep punching like this, it’s probably useful for him to have this padding anyway. The blond invested in gloves for more than one reason.
“There were other people here. Alive. Note the past tense.” Which would explain the tear tracks and fresh wave of guilt.
Well. That’s less than ideal. Fitz opts for the simple response, because he doesn’t have anything else. Should haves such as ‘should have checked this location more thoroughly’ and ‘should have offered a better plan’ will change nothing, he’s found. Attempting to claim the guilt is equally his for having gone along with a plan thrown together in as little time with as little resources as they had won’t help matters. “Damn him to hell.”
That earns a weak smile. “I think he’s already been, Fitz.”
This situation isn’t really funny, but the thought occurs to the blond and he follows up easily, if only to bolster Jojo’s morale. “I think that precise location’s called limbo.”
Neither Johan nor Pretender have to speak for the unimpressed eyebrow and barely repressed smile to convey volumes. It’s a good thing, too, because the sound of more than one set of footsteps approaching instantly has them quieting and stilling, prey in the presence of a predator. Still, it appears his dark humor has proven itself good for something. Jojo’s body language is much more confident, much more ready, and they flatten themselves further, waiting.
