There was a thwap of leather on skin biting into his back, no doubt bruising and leaving indents on skin.

"S-sixteen." He stuttered.

It hurt to breathe, hurt to think, tears dripping down his face.

Thwap.

He bit his lip so hard it bled, nose running from the tears.

"Ssssss. Seventeen."

Thwap.

He wanted to beg, to plead to crawl on the ground and implore mercy. But he knew that only ever ended in more strokes.

"Ei-eight. Eighteen."

Thwap.

His legs were trembling from the effort of holding him up, his nails digging into the wooden stage he was leaning into.

"Nine-Teen."

Thwap.

It hurt to breathe, and all he could think was that it wasn't fair. You needed to breathe to live, it shouldn't be allowed that simply living brought agony.

"Twenty." The word flew from his mouth, signaling the end of the beating.

His legs gave out, crumbling into a ball as his back screamed.

A slap to the side of his head left him cowering.

"Beg God for forgiveness for your sins, you ingrate."

"Y-yes, Father."

He listened to the priest walk out of the chapel, laying there. Each breath was as agonizing as the last. He hoped he would die.

The worst part is... he didn't even know what he had done. The priest had dragged him from his homework and whipped him. His memory of today, and the last few days actually, were a blur. Surely something as notable as deserving a beating would stick in his head.

He crawled toward his shirt, dragging it on as gently as he could, minding his sensitive back. He closed his eyes.

He felt it. A shadow looking over his shoulder, but when he "glanced" back it was the empty stage of his mind.

"What did you do?"

The shadow stirred, winding it's limbs around him.

"Gave people what they deserve."

"Don't do that anymore."

The shadow growled low in its throat. He felt it open its mouth to speak when-

Doppio's eyes flew open gasping in air as if he only just realised he could breathe.

"Oh my god!" Trish tackled him, taking them both on the floor in a tight embrace.

"Uh…"

"Shit dude, I thought you were dead." Mista was grinning, but there was unease in his stance, fear in his eyes.

"Doppio…" He glanced up to see Giorno, his curls disheveled and hair lose. "Don't ever do that again. You… you died." His normal composure was shaken.

"I… I feel fine." Doppio managed, and surprisingly it was true, he felt refreshed in a way he hadn't felt for… years.

Gold Experience Requiem leaned close, tilting its head curiously, Doppio eased Trish off him and shifted away from the stand.

"You stopped breathing." Trish laid her head on his shoulder. "You died. For fucking Fugo of all people!"

He swallowed hard, glancing at his left hand. It was whole. Untouched. Even his tattoos were seamless over his skin.

Gold Experience Requiem pulled back and faded into Giorno. Who looked about to collapse, it was the first time he'd seen his composure fail.

"What time is it?" He said looking around, the sun was peeking over the skyline.

"4-ish." Mista said glancing at the clock.

"Uh… we… um…" Doppio's head hurt, he could feel the belt marks burn into his back. He could feel the fear and pain buried in his skin.

"We need to sleep." Giorno provided, standing.

He nodded. "You guys sleep, I'll keep watch."

They all turned to stare at him.

"I feel good really! I feel amazing!" He grinned uncertainly.

Giorno looked doubtful but Mista shook his head. "Giorno, we don't have much of a choice, if he wants to let him."

Doppio glanced at Mista with a searching look, was he actually trusting him?

"Perhaps… my stand rejuvenated him?" Giorno said reluctantly.

"I can stay up with him, I actually slept while they were away." Trish said, poking Giorno. "You two have the bed, we'll keep on the couch."

"C'mon Giogio, you need rest…" Mista pulled him to the bedroom.

Doppio wiggled over giving room for Trish to seat herself.

Trish turned on the T.V flipping through channels aimlessly while Doppio strained his ears, he knew from the experience Mista snored.

Not long after he heard the telltale rumble of Mista.

Trish glanced at him. "He snores like a monster, I don't know how the boys stand it at all." She grinned.

"Perhaps they're used to it?"

Trish glanced upward thoughtfully. "I don't know a lot about them actually. Like if they have apartments or sleep in the house. Hmm."

Doppio shifted uncomfortably feeling the belt marks on his back. He picked at a nail.

"I guess… your half of my dad?"

He glanced up surprised. "I suppose I am."

She smiled sadly. "I never wanted to meet my dad, I was happy with just mom… but now that she's gone…"

Doppio frowned, thinking hard for the memory of Trish's mother. There was a glimpse, a woman laughing in his arms, black hair and blue eyes. She was grinning in a way that made his heart hurt. She was smiling so big she closed her eyes. But when she opened them, her gaze was soft, she looked at him with… he didn't know, he didn't think anyone had ever looked at him like that.

He felt sick

"I love you, ██████."

He flinched a pain struck through his brain.

"██████"

It felt like static in his ears, slipping just out of reach. Thinking about it made his head hurt. He shook his head.

"Donatella." He said finally.

Trish glanced at him guarded. "What about her."

"She was… beautiful. She had a very nice smile."

Trish frowned at him.

He rubbed his palms into his eyes. Trying to rid himself of Donatella looking up at him with adoration. "I don't remember much about her." He finally said curling in on himself. "And I can't take full responsibility for Diavolo, but… for what it's worth, she seemed like a kind woman, and I think what Diavolo did was wrong. And… I would have tried. I would've tried to be a good father, if it were me."

She stared at him, confusion and pain in her face.

He ducked his head into his knees, trying to think of what to say.

After a while he finally peeked his head out. "So… if you want to spend time with me, I'd be happy to. But you don't have to, ofcourse, but… I can't think of another way to make it right."

Trish looked thoughtful. "Yeah, let's hang out sometime."

He smiled and rubbed his back, the marks on his back had faded into a low burn on his back. He tried to ignore the sound of leather on skin echoing through his mind.

He gnawed at his lower lip.

"What do you wanna watch?" Trish finally asked.

He glanced at the TV seeing a standard infomercial.

"Oh I actually have experience in this area." He said picking up the remote, he began to mumble to himself. "Let's see, 4:30, that means my soap opera isn't on, Simpson's is on but that can be crass, hmm, weather if definitely out, and news is just sports and Oh!"

He pressed the numbers into the remote and the show flipped to a show with two girls arguing. "La usurpadora!" He said leaning forward.

"Huh?" Trish balked.

"It's about identical twins separated at birth, and then they switch places! It's pretty new so I was surprised when they started airing it at night!"

Trish nodded, unsure.

"Oh! Here Paola and Paulina are arguing about-"

Trish watched as Doppio happily recounted the events of the soap opera.

She smiled and gently reached out and grabbed his hand.

He stuttered to a stop in his explanation. "...uh?"

Trish pulled her hand back slowly. "Sorry, too much?"

"Oh! No! It's just…" he stared at her hand. "It's been… a long time since someone has touched me just because they wanted to."

"So you don't like it?" She asked.

"No, I actually really like it." He said, unsteadily reaching out his hand.

Trish reached over and tugged Doppio into a rough hug, before ruffling his hair.

He couldn't help himself from grinning and leaning into her touch.

They settled with Trish sitting close, with their legs touching. She glanced at the screen. "Who's that?"

"Oh! That's Paola's fiancé, he's this guy who-"

And Trish giggled as Doppio enthused about the show.