Roadside Hotel near Basrah, 1988
"Heeey…Joootarooo." Joseph leans down and pokes his unconscious grandson's cheek. Jotaro makes no response, only a slight pained expression on his face. With a huff, Joseph takes a look at the surrounding room, distaste flooding his eyes as he notes the general shabbiness of the hotel.
Hm…most of those wounds healed up fine. That leg will take a while though.
With deft hands, Joseph ties off the fresh bandage around Jotaro's thigh, a sour look on his face as he grabs Jotaro's hat from the bedside table and spins it on his finger.
Man, Suzi Q had to do this for me for a while… Must have been tough…
"Alriiight then, Jotaro, guess I'll let you rest. Get to tell everyone that we have to stay sitting around yet another da-" Feeling a hand grab his forearm, Joseph pauses mid-stand with a concealed smile on his face.
Got him.
"Jojo…how many days has it been?" Jotaro's trademark scowl creeps onto his paler than usual face, and Joseph quickly places the hat he was twirling back on the table.
"Hm…" Joseph hums playfully before throwing up his other hand, a freshly replaced prosthetic. "Three."
"Shit…" The room fills with hushed grunts of pain as Jotaro rises to a sitting position.
"Hey hey, you're in no position to move around there. Took me months to recover from a hole in the leg myself, and I'm a Hamon MASTER. It's going to take yo-" Joseph stops his light-hearted lecture when he sees the look in Jotaro's eyes. It isn't a look of pride, defiance, or confidence. Just simple, pure, raw determination.
Jeez, he could sit on a grenade and want to get moving the next day…
"Help me up, Jojo." Jotaro has one hand on the bedframe, the other reaching out for Joseph.
"Nah." In response, Joseph just folds his arms and leans against the nearest wall. "You should rest. Unless you can tell me what's rattling around in that skull of yours."
Silence fills the room as Jotaro lowers his hand. Only a person with sharp eyes could spot the hurt look under Jotaro's cool exterior.
"Jojo."
"Yeah?"
"We only have twenty-six days left."
"And? That's three weeks and some change. Just a hop, skip, and a jump away!" Joseph's cheery voice sputters away into more silence.
"…If we're even a day late, my mother…" Joseph could hear Jotaro grit his teeth in the quiet of the tense room.
"More family talk, eh…" While he mumbles to himself, Joseph taps his forearm impatiently. "God I'm always terrible at these talks…"
As the silence persists, Joseph sees his grandson curls his hand into a fist as he plants it on the bed and attempts to pivot his legs off to the side. The fresh bandages tinge crimson as a pained grunt echoes emptily in the room.
"Listen, Jotaro, if we go now, you'll just have a chance to die quicker than-"
"Jojo. I've heard the stories before, told by a man with more regrets than you." Star Platinum emerges from Jotaro's body as he speaks, its leg also torn up by three diagonal slash marks. It grabs a bedpost from the bed, rips it off, and passes it to Jotaro, who uses it as a makeshift crutch. "I'm going to beat the shit of DIO with or without you. You can either watch me walk there behind me or beside me. But if you stand in front of me, I'll move you myself."
Jotaro limps forward, Star Platinum grabbing his outer clothes and putting it on him. He maintains a fierce glare directly at Joseph the whole time, only breaking it to reach down and grab his hat himself. As he puts it on, he spits out a few tenacious words despite his shaky hands: "I'm leaving."
"Fine fine…have it your way. Gotta say though, if you were in your mother's situation, I would not be doing this to save you."
"For someone who claims to be an expert, you're a terrible liar, Jojo." With uneven steps, Jotaro approaches the door, only to have his legs buckle a bit as he gets halfway across the room. Regardless, Joseph catches him and stands him back up.
"I'll get you some water while you're marching your hellpath to DIO another ten feet to the door. If you hurry you might touch the doorknob by the time I get back!" Joseph makes sure to steady the injured man before he bounds off out the door.
As soon as the door creaks open, he's greeted by the oppressive midday sun beating down on him, no breeze to be found. Hol Horse and Anne are sitting in the front and back passenger seat of a nondescript tan SUV, the doors propped open and legs hanging out as they fan themselves off. Iggy, on the other hand, naps comfortably in the backseat, the tinted windows blocking out most of the sun.
"Well everyone…"
"Is he alright, Jojo? Is his leg fully healed? Tell me-" Anne springs up and starts tugging on Joseph's faded and stained Hawaiian shirt, practically shaking him for answers.
"Let me get to it, you little hell brat!"
"Hey, if it means we can get moving and get some wind in my hair, any news is fine by me." Hol Horse glumly notes as his face seems drowsy with heat.
"That's the news. Despite Jotaro's injuries, we need to keep moving."
"He got hurt real bad! He needs to heal!"
"That's too bad! As the oldest non-blond here, I'm in charge. So we move. Hol Horse, start the car!"
"You're a real asshole, Jojo." Anne curls her hand into a fist and pounds the door frame, though she does still close her door and prop her legs up on the dashboard.
"Yeah yeah, get her moving. I'll be in the backseat with the dog and the invalid." Joseph pats Hol Horse on the back as he passes him on the way to the backseat. As he sits down, Iggy looks up and notices the absence of his favorite cowboy and growls a bit at Joseph. "Hey boy, make room."
Despite attempting a 'calm down' gesture, Joseph still finds himself face to face with an increasingly irritated mutt. With a nimble leap, Iggy launches himself directly at Joseph's head, his teeth clamping down on a mouthful of hair. The dog dangles limply as Joseph shrieks in pain, desperately pulling on the animal with both hands.
"Hey, Iggy." Hol Horse groggily speaks from the driver seat, not even turning to look at the back. Immediately in response, Iggy lets go of Joseph's hair and lands happily on the backseat, wagging his tail as he looks at the back of Hol Horse's head. "C'mon up."
Iggy leaps up to the front seat as Hol Horse pats the center console, the dog sinking into the cupholders as he curls up as close to Hol Horse's leg as possible. With his right hand, Hol Horse pets the dog as he awkwardly fires the engine up with his left. Joseph grumbles as he pats his hair back down and walks around to the trunk to get a lukewarm bottle of water from the half-stocked cooler.
Hey Caesar, you said family matters a lot to Italians, huh?
He flips the bottle in his hand as he thinks, trying to busy his hands.
That's what I get for marrying Suzi Q…guess it's that Italian side in him.
As he's about to catch the bottle again, Star Platinum's hand snatches it out of the air and unscrews the cap.
"Oi, Jojo."
"What's up, peg leg?" Joseph smirks as he turns to face Jotaro, expecting a scowl. Instead, Jotaro's pale face has a slight smile.
"Thank you." Hobbling to the backseat, Jotaro settles himself in, the sound of Anne's worried voice muffled as Joseph shuts the trunk.
Ah, who am I kidding. I've always fought for my family. Granny Erina, Lisa Lisa, Speedwagon…hell, even you Caesar. But I think I understand you more now. I can't be afraid of what I thought family was…'something that leaves you'… No, this is what family is. People working together for something…their futures…
He walks to the back door and hops in, slamming the SUV door shut to block out the beating sun.
"Okay, then, Hol Horse. Hit the gas!" Joseph points emphatically to the windshield, but Hol Horse only responds by easing the car out of park into drive, slowly pivoting the wheel, and gently driving onto the road.
"This ain't no convertible, Joseph. I can't just gun it out here in the middle of nowhere…"
Sitting the front seat next to a snoring dog, Some highway in Iraq
The cool night breeze whips through the SUV, the occasional waft of cigarette smoking filling Anne's lungs. She has her hand out the window, groggily feeling the wind as she slowly approaches sleep. Behind her, Jotaro sleeps with a look of discomfort plastered on his face, while Joseph taps in a silent beat to whatever he's listening to on his headphones. Iggy still snores on the center console, Hol Horse alternating between holding his cigarette out the window while steering to petting the dog while steering. Sometimes with his knees.
"Hey, Anne." Jojo's voice gently whispers from the backseat.
"What, Jojo?" Anne whispers back, completely unamused.
"You doing alright? You were pretty torn up when we found you."
"I'm doing just fine…"
"I mean, you had that shell shock look to you," Joseph's whispers slowly becomes less subtle, "Then you started crying and pointing at Jotaro…"
"That was four days ago, let it go!" Anne's voice is now a low growl but, despite that, Jojo still pats her on the shoulder.
"It's okay, Anne. You can be a crybaby all you like. You saved his life from…'N'Doul'? Did I get that right?"
"Yeah…" Anne's heart sinks a bit as she remembers the blood splattering to the pavement, an unseen force slicing through Jotaro's body. She had been sitting there for almost two hours, pumping as much Hamon as she could into Jotaro before Joseph found her…
"I mean it. You took on a Stand that could take down Jotaro. And look, barely even a scratch on you!" Joseph is practically speaking a normal volume now, causing Iggy's ears to prick up in his sleep. Hol Horse speaks without even turning to look at the dog or the rearview mirror.
"Quiet now, let the dog sleep…"
"Fine…" Joseph returns to whispering. "Tell me, did you come with any cool techniques?"
"Stop asking…"
"Why? I promise I won't steal them."
"It's just…I don't think I enjoy fighting as much as you, Jojo. You seem to really like it, even when your grandkid gets torn up…I don't know if I can bear seeing that again."
"Wanna know a secret, Anne?"
"…You're going to say it anyway."
"It's a special Joestar secret technique, even Jotaro uses it." As Joseph's whisper hits her ear, she perks up a bit and turns all the way around to face Joseph.
"Yeah, keep going." Anne excitedly whispers at Joseph, whose face takes on a grim shade.
"No matter how it looks, the only thing we take joy in is the fact we made it out alive. Everything else is to make the next moments not hurt so bad." His face then instantly morphs back to lighthearted-ness, "You tell anyone, and I'll shave the rest of your hair off. I know you stole my technique."
The words hit Anne like a cannonball.
Secret techniques, all your tall tales, all that…Me and you hurt the same, then, huh? If that idiot can put on a brave face, then-
"Hey! I used two more that were my own, thank you."
"Let me guess, the iron filings you showed me almost a week ago, which copies my Hamon Hair Attack, and judging from your wounds and the blood spatter on the zombie when I found you…maybe you stiffened it with Hamon and threw it at him from long range? You probably stole that from when I told you about that squid ink pasta…"
The breeze rolls through the car windows again, Hol Horse finally flicking his burned down cigarette out of the window and rolling it up. Now all that fills the car are gentle dog snores, and the sounds of a Hamon master and his pupil arguing in hushed tones. The feeling of dread had all but evaporated from Anne's mind…
END of CHAPTER 31