The fissure in Whitesnake's form widened, revealing something green and writhing. Pucci lifted his hands to his forehead and closed his eyes.
"His Stand is freaking out," Hol stammered. "Do I shoot him?"
"No," Dio said quickly. "This is good. This is perfect."
Hol gave him a look of absolute bewilderment.
"I needed this change in perspective," Dio said with a half-laugh as he gestured towards the wall they were standing on. Hol furrowed his eyebrows and looked as if he were considering shooting Dio instead.
"We do need those discs back," Dio continued, "but this proves to me that not even I can discourage him from reaching Heaven. Perhaps no version of myself can."
"Uh, the end of the world problem, though. I thought we were gonna fix that." Hol lifted Emperor and began to take aim but Dio pushed his arm down.
"The world is going to end, Hol. It's unavoidable. If it's in Tohth, it's going to happen. However, I'm going to find a way to take advantage of it. If the tides of fate are changing, what we need to do is ride the wave and try not to drown." He grasped Hol's wrist and adjusted his aim so that Emperor was pointing at Pucci's feet. The three miniature discs were trapped beneath his shoe.
Before Hol could shoot, Pucci shook his head and his Stand shuddered. He held a hand to the bullet wound on his shoulder and frowned. "Not… yet. Not here," he snapped, and Whitesnake made a hideous cracking noise as it mostly reformed. The change in gravity relented. Dio and Hol fell to the floor.
Dio stopped time and prepared to sprint across the chapel, but he paused when he saw the fallen printed papers at his feet.
Was that a photo of Dario? His face twisted in disgust and he crouched in order to look closer. The face was similar, but it was a younger man, and in modern clothing. He also had a tattoo of a semicircle beneath one eye. There was text on the paper; it seemed to be a printout of a file from a juvenile detention center.
He felt a weaker version of the same instinctive pull that had brought him to Pucci. He glanced around, searching the floor for any more fallen documents. The stopped time would be running out soon; he grabbed whatever papers he could find.
Time began again. "Priorities have changed," he said to Hol. "We're going to make a trade."
"What?" Hol regained his balance and grimaced at Dio. "Trade?"
He felt an uneasy fatigue pulling at him, but he stopped time again. "We're retreating for now."
"Running away, you mean," Hol grumbled.
"Call it whatever you like." Dio looked back at the frozen Pucci; dark eyes, a serious frown, and a familiar burning determination. Dio nodded to himself, then turned his attention back to Hol. "I know what he'll be looking for next. We need to get to them before he does. Then, we can trade them to him for the discs." He ran from the chapel; Hol let out a frustrated noise, fixed his hat, and sprinted off after him.
Dio was grateful that their little scuffle hadn't alerted the guards. He looked around the bus parking lot as Hol scraped the wires in the car together. In any case, Dio was worried less about the guards and more about Stand users coming after them. Pucci had a habit of collecting Stand discs that caught his interest; it was likely that he had installed them into the people around him. Once he realized that Dio had found the printout, he would begin tracking them down.
"There!" The engine rumbled and Hol jumped into the front seat. "Where are we going?"
"Avon Park. We'll be going west," Dio said as he slid into the back and swung the door closed. "How are we on gas?"
The tires squealed a complaint as Hol got the car turned around and sped for the bridge. "Not great. About two ticks from empty."
Refueling would take precious time. They needed a head start. Dio dug his fingers into his temples in annoyance. "Drive as fast as you can, but when I tell you to, you need to follow the speed limit."
"Got it." Hol nodded and pulled onto the exit bridge. Time stopped and the engine growled. The car flew past the frozen guard station, where one guard was looking at the shattered barrier and holding a walkie-talkie.
They made it across the bridge and time began again. Dio leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. Hol barely decelerated as he made the turn onto the main road and momentum had him leaning sharply out of his seat.
Time stopped again. It was late, so the highway was thankfully less crowded, but Hol still broke a sweat and went tense as he weaved between the lanes and avoided the frozen cars.
Time began, but then stopped almost immediately. Hol ventured a glance up at the road signs; he remembered passing several gas stations back in Port St. Lucie, but at the speed they were going, they might make it out of town and back onto the interstate before Dio said to stop.
Time began again and Dio made a concerning noise. Hol glanced up at the rearview mirror. "You good back there?"
"Eyes on the road, Hol," Dio hissed. Time stopped again. He hadn't pushed The World like this since… well, probably against Jotaro in Cairo.
His original plan had been to convince Pucci to at least help him (he had pushed the "saving the world" angle to convince Hol to come with him, but he honestly didn't care; he recognized that it was unavoidable); but Pucci could not be deterred at all from his singular goal. Plus, Dio had brought up Perla in anger, which he viscerally regretted. He knew Pucci's motivations couldn't be reduced to something as simple as that.
It was a regrettable exchange, but not unsalvageable. The folded papers in his pocket were proof of that. He would have preferred Pucci to remain a genuine ally, not someone he would have to manipulate further. But if Pucci was looking for Dio's offspring, then he must think he needed them to access Heaven. If Dio got to them first, he could hand them over to Pucci in exchange for the discs.
And if Pucci refused even that, it would still work out in his favor. His children had been… an experiment of sorts, a way to test out a theory. But if they had even a hint of Joestar blood, then they fit into his second plan.
The first thing his double had done was reinforce the inevitability of Dio's loss in Cairo. Why was Jotaro defeating him in Cairo just as unavoidable as the end of the world? Dio had come to the conclusion that it was because he was a Joestar, of course. Joestars had an inherent determination. They found a way to win.
If he were to gather up every Joestar at once…
He was still working out the finer details of that plan.
Time stopped and began again. He grit his teeth and leaned forward. His body was aching and uneasy. He felt drained.
Time stopped once more. Hol pulled onto the interstate.
"Slow down," Dio muttered. Hol settled into the right lane and dropped to the speed limit as time began again.
"We're real low," Hol said as he tapped the gas dial. "I'll probably have to take the next exit. Goin' fast really chugged through it."
Dio didn't respond. Hol squinted up at the rearview.
"Hol, I have a favor to ask of you," Dio said quietly.
"Don't like the sound of that," Hol replied with a grimace. "Please don't tell me you're hungry."
Dio was silent. Hol hunched forward over the steering wheel and drew his shoulders up to his ears. "Hell no. Don't I have to drive? I don't-"
"It won't kill you," Dio said flatly.
"I don't wanna be a vampire," Hol spat. "Or a zombie."
Dio rolled his eyes. "And I don't want you to be one, either." His expression grew thoughtful as he remembered the first time he realized the mask's true purpose. "I had my blood partially drained by a vampire before and I was completely fine."
"Oh, you're completely fine, are you?" Hol retorted, a high-pitched panic edging into his voice. Dio began to reach forward and he winced away. "Don't touch me or I'll crash the goddamn car."
"Would you like for Pucci to find us, Hol? I'm sure he'd enjoy adding your Emperor to his collection."
"I honestly might prefer that. I saw all the shit you did in Cairo! Hell, half the time I had to help clean up!"
Dio stared at him for a few moments, then crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. "Hmph. Fine."
Hol didn't relax. He remained hunched over the wheel and he shot regular glances at the rearview mirror as he took the next exit.
"You flew into Japan quite late, didn't you?" Dio asked. "Did you have the chance to eat dinner? Are you hungry? You can get food at the gas station." He waved a languid hand. "You can refuel yourself and the car. But I'll just sit back here. Starved. Exhausted."
Hol glowered at the rearview mirror. "Christ alive, are you guilt-tripping me?"
Dio shrugged and leaned his head against the window.
They drove on in silence. Hol let out a frustrated sigh. "How… how much do you need?"
"Some," Dio replied. Hol rolled his eyes and prepared a retort but a hand went into his neck and he nearly swerved the car off the road. He yelled and gripped the steering wheel as he felt his pulse fighting against the draining pull of Dio's fingers.
It was over as quickly as it began. Hol slumped forward and blinked as Dio drew his arm back and settled into his seat.
"What the hell," Hol muttered. "I thought you had to bite people."
Dio wiped his hand off on the car seat and frowned. "Hol, as your friend, I say this out of concern for your health. You simply must reduce your sodium intake. I feel like I just tried to drink from the Atlantic."
"Oh, you don't get to be the one complaining about this," Hol retorted, and the engine made a sputtering noise.
"There's a gas station to the left of the next intersection," Dio said. "Let's stop there."
Hol's credit card would not work in the future and he wouldn't get more money unless he attempted to rob a Stand-blind clerk with Emperor, so Dio begrudgingly left the car and went into the gas station with him. He stood a few paces away from the checkout as if considering the lottery tickets. Once the clerk opened the register, he stopped time and took some money for himself; who knew what price inflation was like in the future, but a hundred dollars seemed like it should cover their costs.
Hol had wandered off towards the food, refusing to heed Dio's diet advice. He looked at the wide arrangement of snacks and frowned. There were twenty kinds of jerky and yet none of them were the brand he liked. He mourned the fact that perhaps they had gone out of business in the future and meandered over to the pretzels. There was a man standing in front of him and the aisle was a tad narrow. Hol approached him and tried to pass by but the man was so engrossed in the snack selection that he didn't notice.
"Slim Jim?" the man muttered to himself. He put his hands on his knees and leaned forward, peering down at the shelf display with dark eyes. "Col cavolo."
Hol was about to just squeeze past him when the man looked down at his wrist. "Che cosa ne pensi?"
Several tiny things crawled out of his sleeve. Hol watched with his mouth agape as a group of miniature Stands considered the Slim Jim box and chattered amongst themselves.
Could Pucci have already sent Stand users out to find them? Dio had given them such a head start that it seemed impossible, unless Pucci had stationed them in a radius around the prison and just called them to alert them of their approach. Hol glanced over his shoulder. He could see the lottery ticket station and part of the checkout counter, but where was Dio? He scanned over the tops of the shelves and spotted a familiar head of golden hair.
How would he get his attention without alerting or losing track of the Stand user? Emperor manifested in his hand and he turned away. His Stand made a mildly loud, bassy noise when firing, but perhaps…
He made a loud, hacking cough into his shoulder, grabbed a noisy foil back of chips, and shot Emperor all at once. The Stand user glanced at him with mild annoyance but soon returned his attention back to his hand, where his Stand was arguing noisily. Hol faked a sniffle and wiped his nose on his sleeve, but he focused on sending the bullet over the next aisle and around the corner before it would lose momentum. It zipped past where he had seen Dio standing and he adjusted the trajectory; he heard a pop-pop-pop as the bullet passed through a few snack bags. He hoped it would be enough to grab his attention as the bullet used the last of its momentum to round the corner and return to the beginning of Hol's aisle, where it fell to the ground and pointed inward.
He saw Dio's head bob as he startled at the sudden noise; then he began to walk. He circled around the outside of the aisles and as he approached he began to speak. "Mista? Cosa c'è che non va? Hanno già mangiato?"
Oh shit, that wasn't Dio. Hol tucked Emperor between his palm and his thigh in an attempt to hide it without having to send it away.
The Stand user stood and looked at the end of the aisle in confusion. "Eh? Non abbiamo ancora deciso."
"Non gli hanno sparato?" The person Hol thought was Dio strode into the aisle; the similarities did not end at the hair. They had the same sort of angular face and piercing eyes, though his eyes were a calm blue instead of the unnerving amber. Something about his posture also echoed Dio; he emanated a confident steadiness even under the blaring fluorescent lights and grimy surroundings of the gas station. The man glanced briefly at Hol, who was now pretending to be absolutely enthralled by the chip selection, before tilting his head inquisitively at Mista.
"Hey, Hol, how many gallons do you think the car takes? I have to pre-pay in order to fill it." Dio came around the other end of the aisle and waved a fistful of cash. He stared at the perplexed-looking Hol and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Mista looked up at Dio blankly, then back at Hol. Hol looked at Mista with a growing grimace, then peered back over his shoulder at the man, whose eyes were wide with surprise.
"Ah." Giorno cleared his throat and gave a nod of recognition. "Hello, father."
(AN: The translated Italian: No way. What do you think? What's wrong, did they eat yet? We haven't decided on anything. They didn't shoot?)
(Also, thank you very much for your kind comments on the story! I appreciate them very much!)
