Erina Joestar clutched the baby she was carrying tightly to her chest as she stood at the entrance to the alley on Ogre Street. This was not a place for a woman, or an infant, or anyone who even slightly looked like they may have had money at some point in their life. Nevertheless, this was where Erina needed to be. If she had been told correctly, this was the place where her late husband Jonathan Joestar had first met Robert Speedwagon, and if she was to find him, this was the best place to start.
The street looked abandoned, but Erina knew it never was. Unsavory thugs and criminals were always lurking around Ogre Street, waiting until no noble eyes were watching before reaching out of the shadows and snatching what they wanted, utterly destroying those who held it before.
Erina took several steps into the alley. No sooner had the length of the street all but disappeared, leaving only the immediate area behind her visible, when she felt her arm grabbed. She gasped. An Ogre Street thug had seemingly come right out of the walls to ambush her, leering at her with an unsavory grin. His hair was wild, and his face was was tattooed around the eyes, like a mask, but abstract.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here," he said lecherously. "Looks like you're a little lost."
Erina didn't let herself be afraid. If she was correct, she was in no danger. "I'm looking for someone."
The thug chuckled. "Well, you won't find him here. You must not be local; but let me tell you, you really walked into the wrong neighborhood."
"I know where I am," said Erina. "Ogre Street is where ruffians like you congregate."
"If you knew that, then why did you come?"
"I already told you."
"And what have you brought?" The thug reached out with his other hand to grab at the bundle she was carrying, but Erina pulled away as best she could while still being restrained. The thug twisted Erina's arm, but she held onto the child as best she could. "Hey! I don't like it much when you do that!" he snarled.
At that moment, the child began to fuss. The thug let go. "Oh, it's just a baby. I thought it might be something valuable."
Erina began to rock the child and cooed softly. Then she looked up. "I'm looking for a Mr. Speedwagon. Tell me where I can find him."
"No need."
Erina and the thug both looked up. There, in the corner of the alley, was Speedwagon, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. Like the other thug, Erina hadn't seen him appear. They all knew the ins and outs of this dreadful place.
Erina also noticed how tired Speedwagon looked. His face was drawn and he had dark circles under his eyes. And while his clothes had never been nice, they were at least clean and whole when Erina had seen him last. Now he looked ragged and dirty, like a street thug ought to. Or like someone who never cared about his appearance. He was also wearing his saw-blade bowler hat, though Erina remembered Jonathan telling her about his reasons for adopting Zeppeli's checkered top hat during their adventure together.
"Tell the others," said Speedwagon. "This one is off limits."
The thug looked puzzled, and a little disappointed, but Speedwagon still had some pull. "Sure." The thug stood next to Erina, staring at Speedwagon.
"Now." Speedwagon's voice was harsh and firm, and the thug quickly skedaddled out of the alley.
"What are you doing here?" he asked as he crossed the distance between them. It was more of an accusation than a friendly greeting.
"Looking for you," said Erina.
"So I heard."
"I came to bring you home."
"I am home." Speedwagon took his hands out of his pockets and gestured all around him. "This is where I'm from. This is where I belong."
"Jonathan didn't think so," said Erina softly.
Speedwagon snapped, "Well, Jonathan isn't here."
Erina blanched. Speedwagon's face softened. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."
"It's true, though," said Erina, still speaking gently.
"You think I don't know that?" Speedwagon's voice was strained. Not like he was angry, but like he had to fight to force every single word out of his chest. "That's why I'm here. Nothing to remind me of him."
"Have you been alone all this time?"
"Of course not. You just met Tattoo, and I have plenty of other friends. Acquaintances. Or at least people do what I tell them to."
"I mean, have you had anyone you can talk to about this? About what you've been going through. About Jonathan?"
"I don't want to talk about Jonathan."
"I know you don't. I didn't, either. But it's not going to go away if you don't talk about him."
"I'm managing just fine," said Speedwagon. "It's been so long already it's like a distant memory."
"You can't mean that."
"How many years has it been?"
"Speedwagon... it hasn't even been one year yet."
Speedwagon looked at her, his eyes wide. "It hasn't... even...?" he trailed off. Then he leaned against the wall, slid down to the floor, and buried his face in his arms folded on his knees. "It's been decades," he said with a hitch in his voice.
Erina rocked the baby slowly, then sat down next to Speedwagon. She rested the child on her lap so she had one hand free to comfort Speedwagon with. "I know how hard this is for you," she said. "I know how you felt about him."
"No, you don't." Speedwagon's voice was muffled.
"Yes, I do."
"You really don't."
With her free hand, Erina reached into Speedwagon's folded arms, touched his chin with her first two fingers, and tilted his head up. Speedwagon looked her in the eyes. "Yes," she said firmly as she took her hand back. "I do."
Speedwagon looked into her eyes. He remembered the first time he saw her, when those eyes had looked at him with what he interpreted as coldness. She was making those same eyes now, but it wasn't disdain for him as he had originally interpreted. It was simply how she looked when she was sad, and worried, and most of all exhausted.
Finally, Speedwagon said in a voice that almost broke, "It doesn't upset you?"
"No. I understand it. Jonathan was an easy man to love."
Speedwagon let out a mirthless laugh. "Did he ever tell you how we met?"
"It's why I came here."
"I mean, did he tell you why I agreed to show him to where he needed to go?"
"Because he bested you in combat."
Speedwagon laughed again, but this time, it was slightly real. "Ha! No. And I told him as much. It was because he was here for his father... and it made him think, as he hit me, that I must have a father, and a mother, and maybe even brothers or sisters. So he didn't hit me as hard as he could have... I don't have any of those things, and as far as I know I never did. But he thought I might, and that was enough for him. He's a man who doesn't need your life story before deciding not to turn your face into ground meat."
Erina smiled. Speedwagon smiled back. Then, slowly, the smile disappeared. "I really miss him, Erina."
"I miss him, too." She began to slowly rock the baby again, who was beginning to squirm. "But we can miss him together. It would be so much easier than trying to keep it to yourself."
Suddenly, Speedwagon stood up. "And what's the idea of bringing little Elizabeth here to Ogre Street?" he was suddenly almost shouting, not loud enough to startle the baby, but definitely loud enough to make his displeasure known. "Do you know what could have happened to her if I hadn't been here? Did Jonathan ask you to save her just so she could get- eaten or something?"
"Eaten?" Erina looked incredulous as she stood up.
"Well, I don't know every thug here. Some of them might! Then where would little Elizabeth be?"
"This isn't Elizabeth, Speedwagon."
"Not Eliz..." Speedwagon trailed off, and he looked Erina up and down, noticing for the first time that she wasn't visibly pregnant, even though Jonathan had been gone for nearly a year.
Erina pushed some of the blankets aside and for the first time, Speedwagon saw the face of the child. "Mr. Speedwagon," said Erina, "I'd like you to meet George Joestar II." She held the tiny baby upright and moved some more blankets to show Speedwagon the Joestar birthmark: on the back of little George's left shoulder was a five-pointed star-shaped mark, almost identical to the one Jonathan himself had.
Speedwagon stared as Erina re-swaddled the baby and began to rock it again. "I'm not asking you to do any of the heavy lifting," she said, "but it would mean a lot to me if you would be a part of this child's life. That, when the time comes... you tell him about the kind of man his father was."
Speedwagon slowly raised his arms. "May I?" he asked in a hushed whisper.
"Of course." Erina slowly guided the baby to Speedwagon, who arranged his arms in a cradle. Erina set George down, and Speedwagon immediately drew the child close to him. To Erina's surprise, he held the baby like an expert, even supporting the head properly. Had someone taught him that, or had he merely observed Erina just now?
Speedwagon slowly rocked George, looking admiringly down at the fussing infant, who was not happy about being suddenly moved. "Hello, little Mr. Joestar," he cooed. "Are you going to grow up to be just as much a gentleman as your father was? Don't worry; he has some pretty big shoes to fill, but Speedwagon will help you out."
Erina smiled. "Does that mean...?"
Speedwagon nodded, never taking his eyes off George. "You were right. I can't do this alone."
"Will you come with us, then?"
Speedwagon sighed. "Yes... yes, I will."
"Thank you, Speedwagon."
From the entrance to the alley, Tattoo called out, "Oi! Look at this! Speedwagon's got a baby!"
"Shut up, Tattoo," Speedwagon growled.
"Everybody, come and look!" Tattoo said gleefully. "Toughest guy on Ogre Street, cradling a little bitty baby like a-"
Speedwagon handed little George off to Erina and approached Tattoo, one hand on the brim of his hat. Tattoo immediately shut his mouth. "Do I have to ask you again?"
"No."
"Did you tell them that Mrs. Joestar is off limits?"
"Yeah, I told 'em."
"And if you ever see George Joestar II, you'll leave him alone as well?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure." Tattoo was surprised by Speedwagon's sudden change in demeanor. He had seen the man sulking around Ogre Street for months, every day looking like he had just come home from the funerals of everybody he had ever loved. But now he was brighter, somewhat lighter, and he honestly smiled when he got the answers he wanted.
"Good." Speedwagon gestured behind him. "All right. Come along, then, Mrs. Joestar."
"Where are you going?" asked Tattoo.
"I'm escorting the young lady home," said Speedwagon. "I might be gone for a while. Or forever. We'll see."
Ignoring the protests coming from the member of his former gang, Speedwagon and Erina walked off together, out of Ogre Street and back to the respectable parts of London. As they approached the carriage that would take Erina home, she said, "Oh! There's one more thing I have for you." Expertly cradling George with one arm, she reached onto the seat of the carriage and picked up the hat of the late William Zeppeli. "I thought you might want this back."
Speedwagon took it, looking at it with appreciation. "Where did you find it?"
"Exactly where you left it. It was sitting on a post at the docks where our ship departed. I went there every day for a month after I first came back."
"Every day?"
Erina nodded.
"Why?"
"I'm not sure... It made me feel closer to him. In a way it was almost as if I felt that I would be able to arrive again on the day we first left and undo the tragedy. I know how that sounds, but that's how I felt."
Speedwagon nodded. "I know what you mean... in a way, that's why I was there. But no one else was. And I just couldn't hold onto one more reminder." He took off his bowler hat and put on Zeppeli's. "But I think I needed it all along."
With that, they went off together. On the journey home, they traded stories about Jonathan: Erina, telling Speedwagon about when he was young, and Speedwagon telling Erina about how brave he was on their journey to fight Dio. George fussed intermittently, and Erina had to take time out to calm him down. But by the time they arrived home, they finally felt like part of a family. A family with one large piece missing, but a family nonetheless.
