madimpossibledreamer

            Jotaro is businesslike when they finally get the phone working, almost as if he isn’t hurt.  “The User was a bigger handful than we thought,” was his assessment, and Jolyne filed that question away for later when her father wasn’t dying.  That being said, the person on the other end of the line is anything but calm.
            “We’re sending a doctor and Josuke right away,” the person from the ‘Foundation’ promises.
            “Yare yare daze,” her father mutters, quieter than usual, and Jolyne breaks.
            “They’re trying to save your life!  The least you can do is be grateful!”
            The line goes deadly silent, and it’s almost a full minute before the unfamiliar voice speaks up again, sounding faint.  “Um.  Excuse me, Dr. Kujo.  Who was that?”
            “My daughter,” Jotaro growls, and there’s another silence.
            “Oh, um.  Does she know, then?”
            “She will,” her father promises them out, and it brings her hope.  He’s not that happy about it, but if he’s involved in something that would get him this hurt, of course he wouldn’t want her to know about it, would he?
            “Right.”  There’s another awkward silence, then the man tells her, “Keep him awake, no matter how ornery he gets about it.  If he falls asleep, that could be bad.”
            “I can do that.”  It’ll give her some strange perverse pleasure to do, after all these years of pain.  They weren’t awful, and she’s grateful for them, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t cry about being abandoned again more times than could be counted.  The man hangs up, and Jotaro sighs into the darkness.
            And she realizes something.  “Uncle Josuke?”