Ch. 22
Everything You Did
DECEMBER 19TH, 1988
09:42
KARACHI, PAKISTAN
Over one year ago, Carlos Trejo walked among the living. He was a wonderful son and a loving father who cared for his family and all those around him. In life, he taught his pride and joy Joaquín everything he knew from driving to self-defense. And everything he taught came with a valuable lesson.
"It never hurts to put others ahead of yourself."
"The most important part about humility is accepting one's advantages over you."
"Keep your memory as sharp as an elephant's. Never forget little details."
But the most important lesson of all came to him on his birthday. "Shoot for the stars. Don't let any meteors hold you back."
That would be his last lesson, and the last thing he would hear from him, before Carlos was brutally killed by the man standing before his son. The two months that passed were filled with aching hearts and a yearning for justice either by the law or by Joaquín. Despite his father's words, he wanted to find that man and return the favor. He wanted to make him feel everything he felt and kill him. But no such luck came. The case was eventually dropped, his killer nowhere to be found.
Joaquín moved on from that day, although he promised himself that if he met him again, he would not hold back.
One year has passed, and he once again found himself face-to-face with his father's killer under similar circumstances. Someone was dying, and all he did was look on with a smug, triumphant smile and a cold expression. This man, who wore black pants and a matching long-sleeved shirt under a cream tunic, was more than likely responsible for whatever was happening to the poor old hag suffering her grisly fate.
"My name is Dan," he spoke out to them. "Steely Dan. My Stand is 'Lovers', named after the tarot card of the same name. And like dear Enya over there, you'll all get what's coming to you."
"How could you," shouted Della, just as disturbed as the others. "That lady's supposed to be your companion! How could you do this to her?!"
Enya's face continued to be assaulted from within by the writhing tentacles, becoming bloodier and more mangled by the minute. "It… can't be," she pitifully moaned through the blood. "Lord Dio… would never… do this to me…"
"These tentacles aren't a part of his Stand," said Noriaki in horrified realization. "They're… They're real!"
"I live for… Lord Dio… We trusted in one another… He would never… plant a flesh bud in me…"
At the mention of "flesh bud", Joaquín's attention moved from Dan to the hag collapsing onto the ground. How long did she have one? How the fuck did nobody notice before now?! We checked her temperature after I beat her! So how?! His thoughts were interrupted when Jean Pierre summoned his Silver Chariot and sliced the tentacles off, which disintegrated into the sun.
"I almost forgot about these things," admitted Joseph shakily. "They're… Those are made from Dio's cells…"
Dan leaned against a building and crossed his arms. "Indeed," he said unimpressed. "Very insightful. What you see before you is a flesh bud at its full maturity. Lord Dio ordered me to implant one after the murder of that inbred son of hers. She lost her mind, and the only thing that could calm her was a flesh bud. Naturally, this would come with consequences. First, her rage was too powerful to be calmed. And second, her power was dampened, leading to her swift defeat.
Noriaki and Jean Pierre cast each other knowing looks, having been under the influence of a flesh bud. They admitted that while they were under Dio's orders, their Stands were weaker than they were now. One could only imagine the struggle they would have faced if they hadn't been controlled.
"Poor little Enya. She lost the love of her son and the trust of her master. But here's the thing. Lord Dio never trusted her. He knew she would lose to you guys someday. And he knew you would spare her, just so you could get a peek at what he's capable of. After all, she was the one who not only taught him about Stands, but helped awaken his as well. Just that knowledge alone is enough to sever all ties with such a pitiful woman. That's why I was sent to stop that from happening."
He looked down at the quivering, bloody mess on the floor and smirked again. "Face the facts, Enya. Lord Dio used you. You might've thought that, once he takes over the world, you'd be standing by his side as his guardian angel. But the truth is, you were destined to be cast into hell together with your son. You were a pawn, Enya. And you'll be dying with the knowledge that your dear master never cared for you. It's too bad you didn't realize this until he sent me to kill you."
His words were like ice, and it only fueled Joaquín's anger even more. Enya was already dying, and to hear the harsh truth in such a manner made his heart ache for her. She didn't deserve any of this, he thought bitterly. All she ever did was be loyal to that monster. Why doe she have to pay the price for it?! She didn't even tell us anything! We could have harmlessly found out about Dio's secret! She would have had a chance to live! And now he ruined it!
Joseph did not seem to think that all hope was lost. In what was his only, desperate attempt, he fell to his knees beside the gasping, dying lady and began to plead. "Lady! Listen, I know you put all your trust in Dio, but he's not the man you thought he was! He's a monster with no regard for anyone besides himself! That's why I need your help! That's why I need to know! What's the secret to Dio's Stand?! I have to know! I have to defeat him! My daughter's life depends on us!
"I'm begging you! Please tell me what his Stand's power is!"
Everyone, save for the gasping Enya, stood silent. They all waited with bated breath, wondering if, in her final moment, she would do the right thing. She did not look at him, sunken eyes slowly becoming glassy as her life escaped her. Her breathing soon steadied, words trying to form from her trembling mouth. Joseph leaned down to hear what she would say.
"L-Lord... Di… o," she croaked feebly, "… trusts in… me… I would… never... forsake him…"
In the end, it was for naught. She had sworn undying loyalty to Dio. Even as she was dying, betrayed by her master, it never once wavered. With her last breath spent, her head lolled uselessly to the side, a rattling croak escaping her throat.
Enya Geil was dead.
"OH GOD," cried out an anguished Joseph. Everyone could feel his raw emotion. It was as if they had all failed, especially Joaquín. Another victim had fallen to such a cruel and heartless man, and he was helpless to stop it. He didn't even hate her. She was a grieving mother who, despite her morals, was only doing what she felt was right. It was an odd sympathy he felt, and he prayed she would find peace in the afterlife.
On the subject of Dan, he seemed rather proud of his work. The man had taken a seat at a tea shop next door to his fake stand, chuckling at their emotional distress. They all glared daggers at him, no doubt wanting to get back at him for his crime.
"So sad," he said with a smile, not meaning his words at all. "Such a sad old lady. Swayed by the dread that is Lord Dio's devilish charm, she trusted him until the end."
Della, in a low, harsh tone, growled to him, "And what makes you think he's not going to do the same thing to you? When you've outlived your purpose?"
"I'm just in this for the money. Sure, I'm loyal, but not enough to know his most intimate secrets. There's no threat of death over my head."
"You're wrong," said Joaquín, voice almost trembling in anger. He approached him as he took a sip of some beverage left behind, an indifferent look on his face when he looked up at the son of one of his victims. Joaquín's eyes bore holes into the killer, his body shaking like his voice. "Do you know who I am?"
"Joaquín Trejo," said Dan, a thin, segmented eyebrow raised and unperturbed by his intimidation. "Lord Dio mentioned you a few times. Why does that matter?"
"On September 16th, 1987, you were at a bar in Queens. Some guy bumped into you, and then you killed him. His son had come just in time to see him dead and you standing there like a fucking hunter admiring his kill. And you kept standing there with that same fucking smile as he grieved the loss of his father"
Della gasped from behind, realizing what was going on. "Y-You mean… This guy is the one that killed your dad," she said with shock.
"I did," asked Dan, confused as he looked up at him. It took him a moment for it to hit him, and when it did, his eyes widened in surprise. Joaquín expected to see him try to run away, fearful of his wrath. But he didn't fly. "So you're Joaquín Trejo," he said slowly. "Well, I'll be. I never thought you were the boy Lord Dio wanted to kill so badly. This actually might be interesting…"
"Oh, you don't know how interesting it is for me… Get the fuck up, you coward." He didn't, only taking a sip of his tea. When it became clear he wasn't going to respond, he slapped the cup out of the hand, shattering it upon hitting the ground. "I said… Get. The fuck. Up. This is only gonna go one way, so you might as well suck it up and face me."
"Oh, I will. But I can assure you that neither you nor your friends can ever lay a finger on Steely Dan."
He literally ate his words. Joaquín threw a swift punch to his mouth and sent him flying into the tea shop window behind him. At the same time, there came a pained cry from his grandfather. He turned around to see Joseph flying onto his back as if he too had been punched. There was nothing there to attack, and yet the proof was there when he got up and spat out some blood.
What did he do to Abuelito? Is his Stand invisible? And… why did he get knocked back like this asshole?
Said asshole sat up and looked annoyed for once, wiping the blood from his mouth. "You idiot," he spat. "I haven't finished explaining. You almost killed your grandfather... Now… think for a moment, kid. Do you think I would show my face just to kill Enya? I've been hired to kill you all as well."
Joseph steadied himself to his feet, clutching his pained jaw. "B-Bastard," he growled, moving his jaw tenderly as he spoke. "You said your Stand is named after 'The Lovers' card… What the hell is it?"
"Heh… The battle had already begun, Mr. Joestar."
Everyone stood on guard, looking around for any signs of a Stand. But there was nothing; no disturbances in the air, no unusual noises… Not being able to see a Stand while it was at work was always nerve-wracking. They had no problem fighting them, but it did not make the experience any better.
"Such idiots. Even if you try looking for my Stand, it's not going to be immediately visible…" He turned his attention to a hapless boy, sweeping up some of the debris from the broken shop. "Hey, kid." He flashed them the money Joseph paid him earlier for the now-forgotten food. "I'll pay you to hit my leg with your broom as hard as you can."
He looked confused, almost scared as he was asked to harm this stranger. But when Dan barked, "Hit me!", he felt as if he had no choice. The boy swung straight into his leg, which did not seem to phase him. Almost immediately, Joseph's leg curved as if it were hit, making him bark out in pain.
"W-What's going on, Monsieur Joestar," asked a confused Jean Pierre.
"I-It hurts, said Joseph, holding his head in equal confusion. "I don't know why but it just hurts so much!"
"Have none of you figured it out," Dan asked smugly. "My Stand has already entered your body. After offing little Enya, it slipped into your ear and into the back of your brain."
The last thing anyone would have wanted to deal with during their adventure was a Stand entering them from the inside. Noriaki's Hierophant Green is capable of that, but it controlled its host. Here, there was something inside Joaquín's grandfather's brain that was bringing him pain each time its user was struck.
"Allow me to explain, then. Stands are linked to the body. Hurt the Stand, you hurt their user. The same is also true. Scar a body, perhaps take a limb, and the Stand will also be scarred. But Lovers twists this to its advantage. Hurt me even just a little, and at the same time in that brain of yours, my Stand will react violently to my pain and suffering. It'll manipulate your pain receptors to the same place I was struck and deliver the same pain several times over.
"In other words, none of you can lay a finger on me.
"Oh, and as an added bonus, I took the liberty of bringing more than one of Lord Dio's flesh buds with Lovers. And its growing one in your brain right now, Joseph. And you'll end up the same way Enya has: killed from the inside out."
This bastard's a smart one, thought Joaquín furiously. Not only did he guarantee his own safety by linking his pain with Abuelito's, but he also put a flesh bud directly in his brain… Fuck…. This is really bad.
The child who hit Dan struck him again, this time in the back of his leg. Joseph almost collapsed this time. Perhaps he thought he would get paid for helping him out again. His smile certainly seemed to suggest it. But the killer held no smile. He turned to the boy and muttered, "Did I tell you to hit me a second time? You little brat." And his fist collided straight with his face, knocking him straight across the road.
"You monster," cried out Della, who ran over to inspect the boy. Dan's sights returned to the group, and it was clear by the cold in his eyes that he was serious.
"I will say this," he told them, frowning bitterly. "My Stand is weak. It can't even lift a single strand of hair. It's one of the weakest Stand's in existence. But…"The frown didn't last long before his smile returned. "I don't really need power to kill anyone. If I ended up in a traffic accident, hit with a baseball, or even take a tumble, you, Mr. Joestar, are going to receive twice the damage my body takes. What I feel, you feel."
To further prove his point, he cracked his knuckles. Joseph looked at his left hand with incredulous disbelief. They twitched, and a popping sound could be heard from the metal fingers. "M-My prosthetic hand," he gasped. "It's like I could feel… No! There's no feeling in this hand! This is like I have my old hand back! It's like a phantom pain!"
"I'll give it… a little over ten minutes… before that flesh bud matures. Then," he gave an aside jerk of the head to the bloodied corpse of Enya, "you'll end up just like that useless mummy."
"THAT'S IT," roared Joaquín, tired of him running his mouth. He stormed at him before grabbing him by his collar, both his own and Preciosa's fists ready to strike. But before he could even break his face, he was restrained by two pairs of arms He struggled to break free, but the grip they had was keeping him back. "Let me go!"
"Joaquín, don't do it," desperately pleaded Jean Pierre as he struggled to hold him back.
"Don't act so reckless, niisan," grunted Joutarou with an anxious edge, his hold more secure. "He's only egging you on!"
"Let me go!" He didn't want to listen. His rage has practically blinded him. All he wanted to do was to be let go so he could unleash a year's worth of pain and sorrow on the assassin. But he couldn't. "Let me go, goddamnit! Just let me get one punch in! Just one! He won't even feel a thing!"
Dan looked as if he was having fun with this explosion. "Won't even feel a thing," he parroted back. "Well, isn't that a wonderful idea?" He then leaned in and poked his own cheek.
"Here. Come on. You can strike anywhere in an instant. I know how that Stand of yours works. Right here. Right on my face. Go on, try it. I want to see what happens." He opened up his undershirt to reveal his chest. "Or how about a hole in my chest?" He then lifted up a rather weighty rock from nearby. "Or how about bashing my head in with a stone? Maybe without your Stand?"
The grip on his arms slackened, allowing him to break free and grip Dan's collar again. "I mean it, Dan," he said in a low, murderous tone, as he reared back with both fist and Stand again. This time, Preciosa's fist was held back, and by a lighter but determined hold as opposed to his brother and Jean Pierre.
"JOAQUÍN, NO!"
Della…
It was All My Love who held him back. His gaze tore from Dan and to his girlfriend, face red and in tears. Even through his near-blinding rage, he could see just how hurt and concerned she was seeing her lover so emotionally compromised. And it pained him more than his anger.
"J-Jojo," she whimpered. "Please… D-Don't do it… You... You saw how his power w-worked… Mr. J-Joestar… Your own f-flesh and b-blood… He could die if you kill this man… I know how m-much you w-want him dead, but s-set aside your revenge… We need to d-deal with his S-Stand first... Please, I'm begging you, Jojo…"
Joaquín may hate Dan, but he hated being the reason Della would cry even more. And on top of that, she was pleading. She had never done this before, and it made him feel worse. He knew she had a point, even if he did want to kill him. To defeat him, they needed to find a way to get Lovers out of Joseph's brain. He needed to control himself. For her, and for his grandfather, he slowly calmed himself down.
But in that moment of calm, he was punched straight in the stomach. He dropped to his knees before Dan, Della gasping and calling back her Stand. "What a tender little moment," sneered the killer. "It's too bad it just might be your last. Because once your grandfather's dead, you're next. You'll be joining your daddy soon." Through wavering eyes, he could see him pick up a large rock and immediately try to attack his face. He shielded himself in time, his arms taking the damage.
There was no retaliation.
As he slowly got to his feet, he turned to his friends and muttered, "Y-You guys need to get out of here… Get as far from us as possible… You'll only get hurt more… Go…" He hoped that they would understand what he was saying. With distance, they can work uninterrupted to deal with Lovers. Thankfully, they seemed to understand. With reassuring nods, Della and Joutarou led Joseph and the others running away from the two.
Dan watched them go with a humored smirk. "I know what you're doing," he scoffed. "You think that, just because the farther away he is from me, the weaker my Stand power becomes, right? Well, you're wrong. I don't suffer from that disadvantage. Lovers may be weak, but once it's inside someone, I can still use it as efficiently even if it's over hundreds of kilometers away."
So it's long-distance, thought Joaquín, watching his friends slowly disappear. I had a feeling. Still, they don't have to worry about this bastard doing anything, especially with me around to keep him in check… Though I think that means I might have to take some abuse… It'll be worth it just to kill this prick once and for-
"Hey, I'm talking to you," interrupted Dan with a grab of his shirt collar, annoyed that he wasn't paying attention to him. "What're you looking off in the distance for! Turn around, punk!"
His eyes fell on Dan's grip, then to him. He flashed him a small grin. "Sounds like you're getting annoyed."
"So, what's your plan?" Dan almost got into his face, the smile returning. "Going to follow me until your grandfather dies?"
He gave him no answer, but Joaquín's glare confirmed just what he was going to do.
"I see." He chuckled and reached into Joaquín's pocket. "Well, in that case, I hope you don't mind me borrowing a few things." There wasn't anything much in his pockets except for the leather wallet he pulled out. Within were his credit card, some loose bills, forms of ID, and several pictures. All he took from there were the bills (several twenties and fifties). "This ought to do… I think I'll go around town and see what I can find." And so Dan walked off, trailed by his target like a shadow.
In all his life, Joaquín never felt more humiliated having to do whatever someone else said. Especially from a man who could easily kill another member of his family. Right from the start, he was forced to demean himself just to protect his grandfather. When they had reached a small, stream with a nearby bridge, he was asked to become his bridge. At first, he didn't do it, but when it became clear that Dan would still hurt himself to get his point across, he was left with no other choice.
"Well don't you make a wonderful bridge," he teased, stepping all over Joaquín's back and taking his time to cross. "Don't you? Don't you, don't you, don't you?"
It did not stop there. Sometime after, as they made their way through town, he was tasked to scratching Dan's back. He knew that somewhere out there, his grandfather would have felt this. But he had to wonder… If Abulelito can feel twice the sensations Dan could, would this hurt or tickle him? It didn't matter, so long as he restrained himself from digging his nails in. And he very much wanted to give him a bit of pain.
After this, he noticed Dan look rather thoughtful, as if something happened that he wasn't too fond of. No doubt it was his friends, having managed to find a solution to the problem and working to get to it. In Joaquín's head, he could see Hierophant Green inside his grandfather's body, perhaps smaller than usual, traveling along his brain to fight Lovers. This had to be what they were doing. It had to.
Dan's annoyance faded after a moment and they continued on their way. They stopped in no stores, although the assassin did peek into several clothing stores for men. "I've been meaning to get some new jackets," he mussed as they stopped at the entrance to one of them, several racks of clothes already outside for display. He ran his fingers over one of them and turned back to Joaquín with a knowing smile. "How does denim sound? I lost mine a while back."
"Killable," he grunted back, knowing he was talking about what he wore during his father's murder. "And it makes you look like a douchebag. More than you already are."
The insult yielded no response. However, he would pay for this. After they left that area, Dan stopped to rest on a small, stone block. "It's been a while since I've had my shoes shined," he told Joaquín as he took out a rag for him. "Give them a good polish. I want them to be mirror clean. And you better get to it. You're on borrowed time, you know."
He didn't need the reminder of him and his group's situation. Resigning himself again to humiliation, he spat on the brown leather shoes and began to buff them. He could have left the shoes as was, but he couldn't. Not while his friends were undoubtedly close to saving Joseph.
"You know," said Dan idly, "I'm surprised you're not asking me any questions. True, I don't know what his Stand is capable of or what it is he's plotting aside from your death, but I do know a few little nuggets of information you'd certainly enjoy.
Joaquín huffed, not looking up at him. "Like you'd tell me."
"Au contraire, I know somethings here and there. Harmless things that Lord Dio wouldn't mind me sharing."
"Like?"
"Well, I'm sure you know this by now, but he's looking for Stand users. What kind, I don't know. But each one he has found belonged to some pretty sinful people. Killers, thieves, sadists. Like me. Of course, there are those with weak hearts, but great potential. Some of your friends are some pretty good examples. Anyway, those who swear loyalty to him only really do it for the money. And he has plenty. It's weird, but Dio doesn't care about riches. Just you folks, the Joestars. Why is that?"
"Ancestral feud," he said shortly. "He and my great-great-grandfather Jonathan were rivals. He just wants to settle the score. Though it's like you said, he wants more than that."
"Clearly. He's so desperate to kill you that, when she was alive, he made Enya find the blackest of hearts and turn them into Stand users."
There was a faltering in Joaquín's shining. He had never once heard that, not even from those who boasted about their power. He looked up at Dan with a confused gaze and muttered a flat, "What?"
"Oh, you didn't know? Well, not all of us are natural-born Stand users. I am, but some others like Dark Blue Moon, Far Away Eyes and even Yellow Temperance were just normal people back then. It wasn't until Enya found them that they gained their powers. And man, were they thrilled. It was like a whole new world opened up for them."
Unnatural Stand users. He repeated these words in his head for a moment before coming to his next question. "So.. Dio isn't one either?"
"Good question. I personally don't think so. But it doesn't really matter whether he was or not. It won't help you get any closer to defeating him."
Perhaps not. But it did remind him of something. That bizarre conversation he had with Jean Pierre back in China. France was gripped with "a plague of Stand users who were never born with a Stand". And he had set out to investigate it before his run-in with Dio. Was that all because of Dio? What did Enya know about them before her demise? It was too late to know now, but that didn't mean the answers were lost forever. There had to be one.
"It's kind of funny." Joaquín switched shoes, deeming the one he finished bright enough. "Before last year, none of my family had Stands. I guess if Dio was really born with one, I wouldn't have Preciosa to kick your ass."
"Hm… It doesn't matter. Besides, a year's worth of experience is nothing compared to your entire life. I've had Lovers with me since I was a little boy. And from the moment it awakened, I used it to cause mischief and mayhem on everyone who crossed me. I won fights and killed many just by sneaking into their brain, just like with Joseph. And just like with your father."
There was a small silence before Joaquín spoke. "The eyewitnesses said it was one-sided... And J. Geil told me you made my father beg..."
At the mention of the murdered son of Enya, Dan let out a mirthless laugh. "That retard really must have gotten under your skin if you believed him," he said between laughs. "He never begged. To be honest, he didn't get a chance to. I had Lovers slip into him and he pretty much killed himself. He died on his feet, and I didn't even have to lift a finger."
So now he knew how his father died. He wasn't just brutally beaten by this man, but beaten by his Stand. Another victim to Lovers. He did not feel better knowing his father fought to his last breath against a Stand. All he felt was more anger. He wanted to stand up and strangle Dan until he turned purple. But he had to keep his rage in check. For Abuelito... For Della...
Dan continued to talk as his shoes were shined. "You know, being in New York around that time, I barely killed anyone. Just two people. Your father and this little old lady. Killing Enya earlier sort of reminded me of her. She bumped into me outside of a supermarket and made me spill coffee all over myself. Apparently, it was my fault, according to her cursing. The nerve… At first, I was going to beat myself up once I had Lovers inside of her…
"... but then I found out she had cancer, and I took advantage of that."
Everything froze again. In the recesses of Joaquín's mind, a distant memory began to play. It was something so small that he had shrugged off as unimportant. His abuelita had returned one day before she succumbed to her cancer, complaining about some young man bumping into her and knocking his coffee everywhere. There were flecks of it all over her new blouse.
The next day, she had become weaker due to her cancer.
It wasn't just cancer that killed her...
"Nice work down there," complimented Dan, looking over at his now-shiny shoes. He actually sounded impressed. "I think you'd make a killing shining shoes in New York. But it's too bad you won't make it back there after this. You're still a dead man."
"So are you," whispered Joaquín.
"Beg pardon?
"You heard me, cabrón." He got to his feet and glared at the man who took his family away from him. "When this is over, I'll leave nothing behind of you."
Dan wasn't bothered by his threat, seemingly confident in his own impending victory. He said nothing else as he got up and walked, although he was a considerable distance from Joaquín. That's right, keep your distance from me, he thought, fists clenched to the point where he would bleed through his gloves. You know the first chance I get, I'm going to murder you. You filthy piece of shit…
They kept walking for a good distance until Dan decided to enter a jewelry store. Within the fancy store were glass cases protecting beautifully crafted jewelry set with a myriad of colorful stones. And it was obvious what Joaquín would be asked to do next.
"These are such lovely bangles," he said admiringly, eyes skimming through the displays. They soon fell on a gold bracelet set with pearls all over. "Especially this one. A high-class brand and incredible design… And what beautiful pearls… You'll rarely ever find a nameless gem in a place like this. I bet you could make that pretty thing you call your girlfriend fall more in love with you if you got her this as a present."
He received no answer. Dan then silently pointed to a grate on top of the case and whispered, "You see those gaps? If you use your Stand, you could slide that bangle out of there easily. Go on. It's easy pickings."
Joaquín did not answer him again. He didn't even look at him. But he made sure that Dan would see the quiet anger on his face. Annoyed, Dan got in his ear and hissed, "I told you. To steal. It. And quickly… Or else I'll break this glass and steal it myself. I'll survive the beating the owners give me, but your grandfather wouldn't. Now do it! The shopkeeper's looking away!"
"No," Joaquín finally said.
"Excuse me? You don't have any say in the matter! Your grandfather's life is on the line you punk! You wanna save him, then steal!"
"The only thing I'm stealing today is your life. You pissed me the fuck off, Dan. And right now, I'm at my utmost limit. You wanna steal it, go right ahead."
He clearly pissed him off, for one the assassin's eyes twitched and his teeth were clenched. He then punched through the case, shattering the glass, and grabbed the bracelet in question. An alarm went off, and the shopkeeper, along with several burly men barreling out from the back, approached Dan with every intent on hurting the thief. Before one of them was able to strike him with his bat, Joaquín grabbed it and stopped him in his tracks.
"Forgive me for the rudeness," he apologized coldly, "but if anyone's gonna kick his ass, it's gonna be me. Now BACK OFF!" His free hand blazed with hamon, which he sent right into the bat-wielding arm. He then let go, and the man uncontrollably swung at his partners, knocking them all down. When he looked between them and Joaquín, he received another dose of hamon in the form of a chop to the neck, immediately knocking him unconscious.
"W-What did you do," shouted a furious Dan. "They were supposed to beat me up! Or at least you!"
"It didn't matter who they were going after," spat Joaquín. "I would have still incapacitated them. While my Stand could do the job, I'm a bit pissed off to control Preciosa properly without going into another blind rage. Lucky for me I have hamon. You know all about that thanks to Dio, right?"
"You fucking son of a bitch! It doesn't matter anyway! Your grandfather has less than a minute to live now! And your stupid friends, who shrank their Stands to try and get Lovers out, they will fail! All of them!"
He scoffed at how certain he was in his victory. "You know, there's an old quote I remember from a book I read in high school that fits this situation. 'If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat.' Sun Tzu wrote that. In other words, you underestimate what my friends and I are capable of doing. And because of that, you will lose."
Dan was about to shout back at him but was cut off when his forehead split open suddenly in a burst of blood. It was obvious what happened. "Well, well, well… Looks like someone hurt the Stand… Now it's time to punish its user…"
With his grandfather no longer at risk of pain, he could finally unleash his rage against his family's killer. Dan seemed to realize this too, for he screamed in fear and ran out of the shop. He didn't go too far, for Joaquín had stepped out and reached out with Preciosa, grabbing him by his hair. The assassin's bravado was gone, and in its place was a floundering, panicking man afraid of what was to come.
"L-Let me go," pleaded Dan. "I-I admit defeat! I'm calling back Lovers! I-I'm sorry!" When Preciosa let him go, he got onto his knees and licked at Joaquín's shoes as he groveled. "Y-You can d-do whatever you want! You can beat me up! You can rip my ears off Just d-don't kill me, please!"
"Don't kill you," asked Joaquín in a cold whisper, right before kicking Dan off his shoe. "After everything you did, you expect me to just spare you? Just like that? No. You're beyond the point of sparing. You fucked up the moment you murdered my father. Nothing has been the same since that day. Neither I or my grandmother were able to sleep soundly for months, knowing you were running free. But out of respect for my father, I decided not to pursue you myself.
"... I wish I did… My grandmother might have lived longer…"
"W-What're you talking about," asked the whimpering assassin, confused by his statement. It took a moment, but he finally understood, and his eyes widened in absolute terror. "N-No… Don't tell me… That old lady was…"
"The one who you killed in New York, the little lady who spilled coffee on you… That was my grandmother. And you took her life over something so petty as that." He slowly approached him, fists clenched and his gaze both dark and blazing. His prey backed away on his knees before stumbling on his butt. "You royally fucked up. Both my father and my grandmother are dead because of you… There is no way I could ever forgive a monster like you."
As he raised his fit to deliver the most brutal beat down he would ever give, his ears picked up a small noise. Or rather, Preciosa did. His Stand's fingers shot out and caught something in them. With his incredible, telescopic vision, he could make out the tiny shape of a red, crustaceous mite. "So this is Lovers…" He gave it an experimental squeeze, causing Dan to scream as one of his arms and legs twist in pain. "You're a horrible liar, you know that?"
Tears now streamed from his eyes. He looked absolutely pathetic. "S-STOP," he shrieked. "I MEAN IT THIS TIME! I can't fight anymore! My arm and leg are broken! I-I'll disappear! I'll disappear forever! I'll go to the ends of the Earth where you won't hear from me again! I'll imprison myself on an island! I won't kill again! Oh god, let me go!"
"Jojo, wait," called out a familiar female voice. He and his Stand, who dropped Lovers, turned to see a frantic Della running towards them. "We got Lovers out! But he's-"
"He's not gonna hurt anyone," interrupted Joaquín. "Not anymore. I caught it and made sure his user can't use it again."
"I beg to DIFFER!" Their attention turned to Dan, now shakily standing and his left arm dangling and broken. In his right was a switchblade as sharp as his smile. "You idiot! I was waiting for this moment! The moment your girlfriend came and you let go of Lovers, I sent it straight into her ear! Ha ha ha ha ha! Just try and hit me now! You'll only end up killing your beloved girlfriend! And I know you wouldn't… wouldn't…" His smile slowly drooped to a scowl. "Why aren't you freaking out?!"
This entire time, neither of them were disturbed about his sudden trick. In fact, it was almost anticipated. "You really underestimated us. I knew someone would be coming back. And I knew whoever it was wasn't gonna let you control one of our brains like you did to Abuelito. You're so predictable it's not even funny, Dan." To prove her boyfriend's words, a small bubble slipped out from one of Della's ears. It might have been too small to see, but trapped inside was none other than Lovers.
With no more moves left to play, Dan fell to his knees, dropped the knife and fearfully cried out, "PLEASE, FORGIVE ME!"
"Forgive you," asked Joaquín dangerously before he raised his voice. "FORGIVE YOU?! How dare you ask me for forgiveness! There is nothing you can do or say that would ever make me change my mind! You want to ask someone for forgiveness, ask Enya Geil! Ask my grandmother! Ask my father! But not me! Letting you live was never an option with me! Your fate was sealed the moment I set my eyes on you, bastard!"
"D-Dio paid me in advance... I'll g-give it all to you…"
Joaquín merely shook his head in disgust. "Por dios… You're the lowest scumbag in history… What you owe me…
"... can only be paid IN BLOOD!"
And everything spilled over. All of his rage, all of his hatred, and all of his pain... it all bled into the rapid, brutal onslaught that was his and Preciosa's fists.
"¡TOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMA!"
Those were for Enya Geil.
"¡TOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMA!"
Those were for Lupe Trejo.
"¡TOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMATOMA!"
Those were for Carlos Trejo. And at this point, Preciosa had stepped back so that it was only Joaquín whose fists were pummeling the jerking, bleeding mess that was the so-called "Steely" Dan. He didn't know how long it lasted, nor did he care. A year's worth of pain laid in every single strike.
With the last of his all his raw, explosive emotions, both his and Preciosa's fist, enveloped in one another, slammed straight into his face. The force of the punch was enough to not only blow his head off but to send the useless body crashing into a building.
Silence rang in the air, the last echo of his "¡TOMA!" fading into the air. Joaquín was rooted where he stood, fists sore and shaking, his throat ragged, and his heart hammering. He had done it. He had avenged the lives of his fallen family members. And he felt…
At peace.
With the deed finally done, he fell to his knees and sobbed. Della was there to catch him and keep her boyfriend in her caring embrace. And he graciously returned it. For his heart was finally lifted of the sadness and hatred that lingered within from the loss of his family. There was no longer any pain, and he made it known in his cries that he was overjoyed.
Joaquín kept his year-long promise.
His family could finally rest in peace.
~ENYA GEIL (1890-1988): RIP
~STEELY DAN (1960-1988): RIP~