This isn't what he wanted. Jonathan drifted from the back garden towards the white cottage. He appeared dressed in the clothes he last wore torn as they were when he died. The ghost knew if anyone saw him they would see occasionally his neck would fade in and out of existence just like his head would. Passing by flowers he could not feel as they were basking in the sunlight Jonathan approached the glass doors.
On the other side he could feel tension rising like before a thunderstorm had its first bout of thunder. Jonathan also felt the presence of other people, strangers to this little house settled on the side of Mt. Vesuvius. They weren't lost. The way they positioned themselves around the windows made Jonathan conclude they were there to trap something inside.
Passing through the glass doors he found the two staring each other down in the living room. Dio stood in front of an armchair. Giorno stood a few feet away holding a book in his hands. He raised it up to show the cover; it was leatherbound and intricately marked its previous gold embellishments faded with time like the pages. There was no title but Jonathan knew what it was, and so did Dio.
"I know what you are."
"…."
"I'm not letting you get off so easily. Everything you've ever done you will pay for with your life."
Jonathan looked from one to the other. He could see fire in Giorno's bright blue eyes. It was one he felt more than a century ago.
"Fifteen years of age and yet still so naive," Dio ventured to say. Jonathan watched Giorno's fingers grip the journal harder.
"Over a hundred years and still so heartless," the boy retorted his face twitching to show the anger in his voice.
Dio appeared unfazed by the harsh remark but Jonathan could still feel the tension in the air. It was made up of shock, resentment, fear, and loss. Almost every negative emotion swamping one small room.
Jonathan knew he had to stop them. This could not end in a sudden burned bridge on Giorno's end. The ghost could see the poor child grown up and looking back in deep sadness on this day.
He drifted over behind Dio reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder, closer to the neck. Jonathan allowed every warm feeling he had witnessed ever since Dio decided to raise Giorno swell inside him and pass through to his hand. Dio's shoulders tensed then relaxed as the new emotions settled within him. Jonathan removed his hand and watched.
"My son, not here. You will understand in time why not here," Dio spoke raising his hand. Giorno recognized what was about to happened and yelled out No, but he could not summon his Stand fast enough.
In the blink of an eye Dio was gone from sight, and Jonathan sensed miles away deep in the city of Naples. He did not know how much time it had taken to move that far, not that it mattered considering The World had evolved beyond nine seconds.
Striding over to the armchair Giorno dismissed his Stand and heavily dropped the journal on it. The boy's hands were balled into tight fists as he glared down at its cover. A voice called from outside and he responded. Jonathan sensed the strangers move away from the windows collecting at the front of the cottage.
He drifted and stood beside Giorno. The ghost remembered the reason why he influenced Dio all those years ago. It had been on account of one of the abilities one gets while being a transient guest in the living world. Jonathan received a vision of Giorno being abused by a man he assumed would have been his step-father had Dio not stepped in. He could not let himself let it happen thus he subtly influenced Dio into taking Giorno in.
Jonathan laid a hand on Giorno's shoulder drawing the boy's attention. The ghost was visible only for a second but he managed to flash a sympathetic, partially apologetic smile.
"Jojo?" Giorno stared where he had seen the figure. "I… I'm sorry. For everything."
Jonathan removed his hand and watched the boy move the journal into an upright position in the armchair. Giorno walked towards the front of the cottage where a boy close to his age had started peeking in and asking for him. The ghost lingered by the armchair before following. He must see how this ended.