"...and that's about what's happened to me up to this point. I probably shouldn't have told either of you so much about yourselves or your futures, but paradoxes be damned, waiting in this turtle has been very boring."

However, I won't tell myself about Caesar or our mom. It's better that he doesn't know.

The aged Joseph wiped the sweat from his brow and took a long sip of his ice water with lemon. His younger self and his grandfather, Jonathan, sat across from him in a state of shock.

"No damn way, gramps! I ain't losing my hand now that I know how it's gonna be guillotined by a whacko aztec monster! I'm not losing it!" The younger shouted.

"You have to, you moron! It's fate! Screw with it and you'll probably end all of existence! Oh my god, I can't believe I was such a bonehead! And don't call me gramps!"

Though the younger Joseph was freaking out, pestering his future self about how much losing a hand hurts, Jonathan sat quietly in acceptance. He would not challenge this fate. His loved ones would live on and prosper beyond him. His life, he decided, was a small fee to ensure their success. If he could change one thing, he hoped that Dio wouldn't have taken his body to commit such evil acts. He knew it wasn't his fault, but discovering that his body was able to do so much damage, he felt small pangs of guilt.

Despite his confliction, a small smile came to his lips as he watched his grandson fight with himself, it reminded him of his own self in his youth. Though this quest would be difficult, he believed in his own family to be successful. To finally be free from Dio's maliciousness.

As he went to take a sip of his Earl Grey, an obnoxiously loud voice behind his seat surprised hom, nearly jolting the cup out of his hand.

"Wow gramps! That's a crazy story. If we weren't sitting in a turtle right now and fighting an all-powerful past-rewriting vampire, I'd think you were full of crock."

Both Josephs shot up from their seat, exclaiming "Don't call me gramps!" simultaneously.

The older Joseph was angrier than his younger self, "Hey, Mista, right? You're not supposed to be in here! You're supposed to be outside guarding the turtle!"

Another young man sitting next to Mista responded, "We were, but it was really boring and cold outside. We heard this cool story being told so we decided to come in."

"You too! You were also supposed to keep guard, Osomatsu!"

"OKUYASU." The young man corrected him.

"I can't believe I trusted you two idiots with such a heavy responsibility. Like the saying goes, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself." Joseph motioned to his younger, "Let's go, hotshot."

He grumbled, but followed the older outside. Now it was just Jonathan and two strangers he knew next to nothing about. It had become to difficult to follow, but he was confident that the one called Okuyasu Nijimura, who had now taken younger Joseph's couch chair, was the close friend of Joseph's son, Josuke. The other, Guido Mista, was a confidant to another supposed member of the Joestar clan, Giorno Giovanna. Something that he had learned about that young man troubled him.

As the two buttheads helped themselves to the snacks on the coffee table set between them and Jonathan, Mista noticed that he was having eyes burned onto his face.

"I got something on me?" Mista challenged the staring Jonathan.

"Oh, no, my apologies. I just..." Jonathan hesitated, but the mafioso gave him a 'go on' type of look. "I was just wondering about your friend, Giorno... what kind of person is he?"

While this probably wasn't information Mista should just be tossing around to any stranger, he was put in a good mood by the story and little chocolate cookies he'd been munching on. He forgot for a moment about his duties and began to spill on Giorno between bites of cookie.

"Mmm, how should I put it... He hasn't been with us for too long, but I feel like I've known him all my life. He's got this intense, burning desire to be at the head of the pack, the best of the best. He's got the stuff, too. A cold ruthlessness that'll do whatever it takes to be on top."

That confirmed it. Jonathan's heart sunk, he didn't want it to be true. But there was no more denying it. Giorno was definitely the son of Dio Brando. Though he couldn't see the power that they called a stand, Jonathan saw a familiar fighting tenacity when catching a glimpse of the young blonde man battling an enemy. Out of everyone, only Jonathan was skeptical of Giorno. If he was Dio's son, how could they be sure that he was truly on their side.

Mista broke through Jonathan's deep thought, "Y'know, I can't help but love that passion. I get this feeling with him that I thought I'd only feel with my capo. Giorno inspires me to be the best I can do. He inspires all of us with such hope and confidence. In some roundabout way, he really cares for those around him. Whatever his dream is, I want to help him see it to fruition."

"Honestly, I'd follow the dude through hell and back, even if he's my junior. There, I said it! You really strangled that out of me, for shame!"

Mista tried to hide his embarrassment, but stuffing his cheeks with cookies only expanded the light pink burning on them. He and Okuyasu soon began arguing over who was hogging the sweets and who was most deserving.

Now Jonathan was confused. He thought for sure that Giorno was Dio's. No spawn of that monster could hold such powerful emotions and inspire such courage as detailed by Mista.

Could he?

-- Some Time Later --

"You know I shouldn't be telling you information like this, right? Don't you know any better by now?"

It might unbelievable to one that Jotaro would take such a rude tone with his great great grandfather, but while he initially had qualms, Jonathan now understood that it was just how his distant grandson expressed himself.

"I know, knowing your own fate and everything, but I really want to know. Please, Jotaro."

Jotaro grimaced, but he didn't think Jonathan would go so low as to beg for it. There was no holding it in anymore.

Good grief.

"If we look at the years, Giorno was born in 1985. Though he didn't start infecting the family until about '88, DIO probably resurfaced sometime in early '84. I wasn't sure that he was really around that long until I found out about Giorno. It actually pisses me off knowing that that scum had been weaseling around for as long as he was and I didn't know a thing. To further answer your question, no, he didn't have full control of your body when we eliminated him."

Jonathan began to mull over the information he had just received but kindly dismissed Jotaro with a heartfelt thanks.

In response, Jotaro pulled his cap and turned, "Whatever, just quit asking me questions you shouldn't have the answers to. You'll only cause more trouble for yourself."

Though he was rougher than sandpaper, Jonathan knew there was that kind Joestar spirit somewhere underneath that coat, and his line showing concern proved it. It was something present in all of them, from the short tempered yet self sacrificing Josuke, to the snarky and wickedly intelligent Joseph and Jolyne, even to thickly walled exterior of Jotaro. They all had that unique kindness to them.

And in the time observing Giorno, Jonathan also saw it in him. It was obscured, sometimes even more than Jotaro, but it was there. He could feel it. This was all culminating into an emotion Jonathan thought he would never experience after hearing about the tragedy of his own son from Joseph, George II. For some reason, fate was giving him another chance.

Truly, that hair was Dio's, and that tenacity was Dio's, but...

-- Later --

"I think, if you were to ask me... it probably has to be the piss."

Jonathan gave Mista a grossed out glance, "So he stole a hundred cars, drove one off a bridge, even cut his own hand off, and you're telling me the craziest thing he's done was drink a cup of urine?"

Mista mulled over the facts for a moment, but nodded, "Yeah. I don't even know if or how he did it, but that cup was piss-free when he put it down."

Please be Dio's.

"You really see these actions as leadership potential?" Jonathan quizzed, fearing for the future of humanity.

"You don't?" Mista was surprised, enough to stop cleaning his gun, "Giorno always has the craziest ideas, but he's never once been wrong or embarassed himself. Not even Abbachio could trip him up, and that guy was a newbie assassin. Even when the going gets tough, Giorno keeps a cool head. What better leader could you ask for?"

"I suppose those qualities are becoming of a true gentleman..."

"Honestly Mr. Joestar, save the piss and thievery, he sounds a lot like you!" Speedwagon said, having listening to Mista's stories and sharing the oil for his own gun.

Jonathan let out a sigh.

"No way! Giorno is one of a kind!" Mista insisted, "Sure your guy is buffer than Schwarzenegger, but has he got the brains to prove it?"

"Blimey! The mouth on this brat! You hear him, Mr. Joestar? Sounds like you need to be taught a lesson on what a super genius gentleman really is!" Speedwagon proceeded to fanboy about Jonathan, starting with the fight between him and Jack the Ripper. Mista was annoyed but would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't interested in how the story ended, so he continued to listen.

Speedwagon's overcomplimenting stories about Jonathan were extremely embarassing and the group was in a safe spot, so Jonathan decided to leave the turtle and take a walk to gather his thoughts. As he held his hand up, he appeared outside and in front of the doors of the Joestar mansion.

This was the current hideout for the group. While the turtle was a fine common room, it was definitely cramped for the extended Joestar clan and their individual posses. The gentleman that he is, Jonathan offered the mansion for those in need of serious rest and healing.

The night air was cool but inviting as the Englishman walked the fields of his estate, passing the slopes and banks where he, Danny, and Erina would play. Jonathan wished for those days again when he had such freedom. But with adulthood came maturity and responsibility. And in Jonathan's case, an army of the undead headed by his mortal enemy. Though burdened by the amount of responsibility, he was glad to be of service. The surviving head patriarch guiding the way for his lineage to succeed and experience the same happiness he once had in his youth.

They were all under his protective wing.

And in that moment, he concluded, even Giorno.

That kid was a classic Joestar and a classic Brando. What a weird situation. Jonathan was sure by now that Giorno was on their side, but the whole situation surrounding who he truly belonged to was too strange. Jonathan definitely felt a kinship with him, but their relationship was one hundred years too late. He definitely couldn't connect with him even if he wanted to. He was already set on Dio being his father. Probably better just to avoid him.

Jonathan was fine with this. He would still protect him to his dying breath. As he approached the door to the mansion, he took a few more seconds to feel one last light gust of wind. Enteting, Jonathan's heart skipped a beat. A young man was intently examining the statue of Aphrodite in the open foyer. As the door closed, he turned to greet Jonathan.

"Good evening, Mr. Joestar."

It was him. His body was straight; unshaken and respectful. His voice was somewhat monotone but undoubtedly genuine. He wasn't exclusively one of two, but a catastrophic and beautiful mix of both.

He was scared, but Jonathan noticed he was moving next to Giorno below the statue.

Giorno turned, "This is the statue you tried to kill Dio with, right?"

Blunt!

"Y-yes... I did..." Jonathan said quietly.

"You don't have to be like that around me. I'm not mad with you or anything of the sort." Giorno was very upfront, "From what I understand, Dio was a real piece of work. Though I feel kinship with him, I think what you tried to do was right. You didn't have a choice. It's what we're doing right now, anyways."

An awkward silence filled the massive room.

"Your, er, well, Dio..." Jonathan's slip didn't evade Giorno, but he didn't interrupt, "Even though he put me through hell, even though he took and terrorized the people I cared about most... I too feel a kinship with him. He wasn't blood, but he wasn't a stranger."

"I see."

The two stared a moment more at the statue.

"You know, I'm not really all that tired." Giorno spun around and started to make his way toward the kitchen, "Would you want to have some tea?"

Jonathan smiled, "Sure, I'd be glad to."

"Perfect. Is Earl Grey alright with you?"