A/N: Another long wait, my apologies!

It's rated M for a reason. Please keep this in mind while you're reading, thank you.

Dedicated to my dear Hawk of the Month

His and His Alone

-Chapter 4-

The days seemed longer and darker now. There was no more laughter in Dio's heart, no more foolish feelings of happiness or joy. Jonathan had erased them, he, himself, had extinguished them that day by the river. That very night he went to his room and held himself on his bed. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't; he couldn't bring himself to cry when he had sparked these actions to life in the first place. But, no … Erina, she was also to blame. If she had just left well enough alone, Dio wouldn't be in this predicament.

Jonathan was quiet. He barely spoke to anyone at all anymore. Not to his classmates, not to his father, and certainly not to Dio. The blonde haired man himself even tried to feign uncaring, act like he wasn't at all upset that Jojo wasn't speaking to him. But the sadness and perplexion quickly turned to anger within him. Jonathan Joestar was still his, but now it was all a matter of when. He didn't care if his adoptive brother loved him or not. He would have him. He owned him. And if he had to force him into his arms night after night, force his body to obey, force those bright, blue eyes to focus solely on him even if he hated it … then so be it.

But the young Joestar didn't act upset so much as he seemed sad and distant. The thing Dio seemed to miss the most, oddly enough, was that happy, naïve smile of his. When he'd whisper words of seduction in his ear, when Jojo would hear a particularly good joke, when they'd have a good rugby practice. It was practically tattooed on the man's face. Yet now … Jonathan's mouth was always drawn down in a sad, distant frown. His eyes no longer gleamed with life, sparked with any sort of passion. He looked like a shell of his former self, merely guided through life with heavy steps.

And that, Dio often concluded, was what made him most upset. It was Erina. Erina had brought upon these feelings of self doubt, of loathing, of sadness within Jonathan. If she had only not interfered not once, but twice. If she had taken away his brother's heart, his very spirit, then she would be receiving a visit from him again, but this time, he would extinguish her life quickly and painfully.

"That bitch," seemed to become the lighter haired man's favorite phrase as he made his way down Ogre Street, the dim light from a flickering street lamp his only guide. Snow fell lightly as his boots crunched harshly on the cobblestones beneath him, face reddening as random flakes of snow melted on his cheeks and nose. Mouth drawn into a dry frown, Dio's plan was put back into motion. To get Jonathan back, he would have to take everything and everyone from him.

"I will have him," Dio hissed angrily to himself in his mind as he stepped around a darkened corner, street lights no longer able to reach him, "Even if we are the last two people on earth and he hates me for it. Even if I have to force him to love me again. Jonathan will be mine."

-x-o-x-

"Father, are you feeling better today?" Jonathan's voice was heavy as he entered his father's room, noticing that Dio was sitting soundlessly besides the bed in a chair, seemingly immersed in a book. An empty glass of water and the empty contents of his medicine sitting on a small tray.

George staggered into a sitting position, releasing a series of heavy coughs as he did so. Jonathan took action and immediately went to his father's side, resting a large hand on his back, eyes filled with worry. The lighter haired man peered over his book to glance at his larger brother, eyes sad, tried. Arms taking the full weight of their father as he held him into a more comfortable sitting position.

"Fine, fine," George managed to sputter finally, catching his breath, "Must've had a dry spot in the back of my throat, haha." His laughter was tired and forced, both young men could tell, but Jonathan forced a tiny smile for his father's strength regardless.

"Ah, truly. Have you been taking your medicine?"

"Bah! Medicine," the older Joestar stared at the empty contents on the dresser, "I'm taking it, of course, but I'll be back to full strength in no time! Just a silly bug, is all. Don't worry so much, Jonathan."

George put a pale hand to his son's face, trying to ease the obvious concern that was etched upon it. Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut and gripped his father's hand tightly within his, body beginning to shake as tears began crawling into the corners of his eyes.

"Jonathan … son," their father's words were calm but not devoid of worry. Even Dio had long since put his book aside, watching as Jonathan's emotions boiled to the surface.

"I … I'm sorry," was all the younger Joestar could choke out before releasing his father's hand and walking quickly from the room.

George, eyes reflecting the sadness in his son's, turned to Dio who nodded with understanding and went to follow his adoptive brother. His smile spreading wider even before he got to the door frame.

-x-o-x-

He found Jonathan in a dark hallway in a fairly unused part of the house near the library. But it was one of his brother's favorite places and where he commonly did his research, so his first instinct was to check there.

The large body was pressed firmly against the wall, back shaking the foundation as he put all his weight on it. A hand was griping his face harshly as tears peeked their way out from the back of his palm and fingers and ran down his skin. Mouth was open in anguish as small gasps and choked cries crawled out of it. His free hand was also held firmly against the wall, supposedly helping to support the large legs that were shaking beneath him.

And just for a moment, Dio's eyes flashed with mirrored sadness for the man until he cleared his throat and shortened the space between them.

The hand was removed quickly from Jojo's face, eyes wide with confusion and stained with tears, "D-Dio?"

The smaller brother said nothing as Jonathan tried to regain his composure and slip past him, but he was not so lucky when Dio shot a hand out and grabbed his wrist tightly, forcing the darker haired man to come to a halt. But Jonathan did not fight, didn't get angry. Instead, his legs gave out from under him, and he slipped down to the floor. Free hand, once again, clenching his face, eyes freely producing tears that fell unabashed to the floor between his fingers.

The lighter haired man stared at his brother for an eternity, watching him shake and sob on the floor. Eyes unreadable, mouth pulled into a tight line, his hand began to tighten around the wrist. Jonathan seemed so small like this, pooled on the floor. His sobs were quiet, but they entered Dio's mind and body like freight train. Once again, his whole world was Jonathan. It was just him and his brother, he was the only one who could save him. But, oh, how he wanted him to feel pain for what he had done to him that day. He wanted to break every bone in his wrist, wanted to see the tears flow more fully from his brother's eyes as he screamed and wailed and pleaded his name over and over and over.

But instead, he bent down and took the larger man in his arms. Wrist now free, Jonathan wasted no time in curling his hands in Dio's back, pulling him closer to him, sobs louder now, but becoming muffled in his chest.

"He's dying, Dio," Jonathan's voice reverberated in Dio's chest as the lighter haired man wrapped his arms around Jojo as well, one hand running fingers through his hair as he pet him lightly.

The young Brando smiled to himself dangerously as he watched his hand stroke through his adoptive brother's hair, fingers playing with the dark, uneven strands. And Dio's mind raced with excitement; of him buying the poison and slowing killing their father, watching Jonathan's heart break into nothing, watching the despair of those around him as Jonathan gave in and became his. It was evil, deliciously evil.

Dio's hands clutched Jonathan harder, "It's okay, my love. I will always be here for you, do you hear me?"

The larger of the two held his face up slowly, and blue eyes met red. Tears still ran from them, but slower now. Lips were moving with unspoken words, and if Dio wasn't trying to prove a point, he would've taken those lips in his own and ravished them until they were red and used and whimpering his name. But he had to stay on track, had to follow through with his plan. He loved Jonathan with all his heart, this much was obvious, but he couldn't disrespect Dio Brando without suffering some consequences. It would be a hard truth for Jonathan to realize, but then again, if the lighter haired man wasn't pulling his strings from time to time, really fraying his nerves, then his brother's love and adoration wouldn't be nearly as sweet.

Once again, the smaller man took his brother into his arms, pressing his face into his chest, and smiled, lips curling possessively over glinting teeth, "Only me, Jonathan. Only me."

-x-o-x-

Tiny feet made their way as quietly as possible over a snow covered street. The lights from the street lamps were dim and unhelpful, but the young woman tried to stay as close to them as she could, gripping onto them for mental strength. Her blonde hair was tucked neatly into a cap, body bundled up in a coat that gave her a tad more presence.

Erina's body shook as she followed the same path Dio had taken through the unusual territory of Ogre Street. After the day near the river, the small woman was convinced with even more conviction that Dio was planning to do something awful. And after following him here, even after betraying her own mind screaming at her to retreat, she had learned that she was correct.

Poison. Dio had bought quite a bit of poison. What he had said to the store owner, she couldn't quite hear. But she had seen the contents, seen the transaction, seen that sadistic smile on the young man's face as he tucked the evil into his pocket and left. But she hadn't confronted him then, that would just be foolish.

She ran back, careful not to intercept Dio, and immediately went to the library, focusing all her attention on learning of the drug and it's antidote. It had been a few days, but Erina was finally confident that she knew exactly what she needed to do.

"I won't let you take Jonathan away," her voice was tiny as she spoke, breath forming in front of her as she spoke into the crisp air, "I won't let you hurt anyone else."

And then there was a crunch of snow behind her, and then three, and then too many to count. Heavy footsteps began to get louder behind her as the young woman's breath caught in her throat. Spinning around quickly, holding a street lamp for balance, Erina gasped.

A large group of men were encroaching upon her position, their leader a man with a large fluff of blonde hair exploding out from under a small top hat. His eyes held an intense glare as he ran, suddenly shining over with confusion for a moment before skipping to a halt, raising a hand up to alert the others to stop as well.

"What's this?" the voice cut through the sudden silence, causing Erina to grip the pole more tightly as she watched the man walk closer to her, removing his hat as he did so, "A woman? What are you doing out here by yourself, my dear?"

Erina's eyes scanned the expanse of people that were nearly surrounding her. Men of different ages, sizes, ethnicities. She mused to herself that it was most likely a well put together street gang. And although she was scared, although she just wanted to run away, she held her ground. Clearing her throat, she spoke, "I need to find the medicine shop. I am looking for some antidote. A friend of mine is in serious danger, and I fear if I don't get this to him soon, he … he may die. And I need to make things right."

Murmurs began to grow amongst the crowd. And with them, came jeers and insults and sexual jabs. But the young woman ignored them all and took a few steps closer to the gang's leader, holding up her head as she did so, "P-Please … I don't mean any trouble."

"Madam," the voice grew softer now as the man approached, removing his hat and kneeling on one knee in front of her, "It was very brave of you to come here by yourself. You have a strong spirit. And I, the ever helpful Speedwagon, will see to it that you get exactly what you need!"

The smile spread across her face before she could stop herself, tears of relief forming in her eyes, "Oh! Thank you so much!"

Standing, Speedwagon mirrored her smile and replied, "Of course! Anything for a lady and her noble quest!"

Erina's eyes became focused once more as she led her new ally and herself to the drug store, "You won't win, Dio. I won't let you."

-x-o-x-

George Joestar was a resilient old bastard.

The poison was taking far too long to take hold on him, and he continued to cling to life in his bed. The coughing grew worse, yes, but he still had a living spirit in his eyes. And every day when Dio brought him his "medicine," those damn eyes, much like Jonathan's, would gaze at him happily, with resolve. But they weren't Jojo's eyes, and their adoptive father certainly wasn't his brother, and the young Brando wouldn't be having any of that. He wanted only Jonathan's eyes staring at him like that.

Dio had decided that the best course of action now would be to kill him directly and get it over with. Of course, he would have to make it look like an accident, have to do something that would make no one suspect that it was him behind it all.

A few days earlier, the young man had stumbled upon Jonathan's research in the library and came across the stone mask, sitting haphazardly amongst a pile of papers and other research materials. It wasn't like his brother to be so messy with his work, since he kept fairly quiet about the whole thing, so Dio took at as an opportunity to explore. Since his dear brother was so preoccupied with caring for their father as of late, surely he wouldn't notice that Dio had slipped that stone mask carefully under his coat, making off with it.

He knew what the stone mask could do, what strange powers it possessed. They would blame it on morbid curiosity, surely. Investigators, the police, the residents of the manor, even Jojo would be forced to believe that George Joestar had let his curiosity get the better of him and had tried the mask for himself. It would be called a suicide, and no one would be the wiser.

Dio's smile widened as he walked up the staircase elegantly, poison in one hand, other grazing over the finished wood frame of the paneling. The stone mask was tucked neatly into his coat, hidden from view.

Rain was beating lightly on the windows, outside the wind blew steadily through the trees. The adoptive Joestar mused that today would be a wonderful day to die, the atmosphere was just too perfect. Out of the corner of his eye, when he reached the top of the staircase, he saw the large form of his brother approaching him. And with a coy smirk, Dio purred lovingly, "Jojo."

Jonathan smiled in return, tiny and shy, "Oh, are you going to see father as well, Dio?"

"Yes, I am," the smaller of the two responded, setting his contents down on a side table to give himself a free hand. He had to do it today, he had to kill George Joestar today. And as much as he would have loved to watch Jonathan's face contort in anguish and despair as he killed their father, he decided that the best course of action would be, rather, to have no witnesses. He didn't want to break Jonathan completely, after all, just toy with him a bit.

He pressed his body up against his brother's hungrily, slamming them both into the wall. Jonathan's breath hitched in his throat, surprised, at the sudden contact, but had no time to process the situation before Dio's lips clamped onto his in need and want. The smaller man's teeth scrapped across lip and tongue, sucking and tasting his brother completely. Trying his best to keep pace, Jonathan opened his mouth eagerly and began prodding his tongue against Dio's.

Both men moaned deeply, each feeling the other's voice echo deep inside them. The young Joestar was more susceptible to this as his hands immediately crawled up Dio's arms, fingers digging into the fabric around his biceps. His eyes squeezed shut as saliva dripped from both mouths, clinging together. And then he felt Dio's fingers in his mouth as well, holding his mouth open.

But there was a foreign sensation on his tongue. Something tiny and round, but tasteless. Dio's tongue took no time in battling with Jonathan's, forcing the tiny object down his throat. And instinctively, Jojo swallowed, mind immediately going on alert when he felt the situation take an unforeseen turn.

The hands gripping the fabric held tighter now as both men pulled away from each other, Dio's smirk in stark contrast to Jonathan's surprise and concern.

"D-Dio, what …?"

"I'm sorry, Jonathan," Dio hummed darkly, smile growing ever wider, "but I can't let you come with me."

The ground found him quickly, as Jonathan realized he was gripping onto the carpet that he was standing on mere seconds ago. Legs were weak, arms straining to keep himself upright as he forced himself to look at Dio. But his vision was blurry, and the colors were swirling together, creating grotesque shapes and patterns. The lighter haired man entered his small field of vision, bending down to grip his brother's chin in his hand.

Jonathan felt cold sweat running from his forehead, smearing it's self over his cheeks that seemed to burn. His voice became raspy, fingers numb as he reached up to grip his head, trying to make sense of the situation and correct his vision. But it was painful and bright, and Jojo squeezed his eyes shut, fingers rubbing them to try and bring back his proper sight.

"Oh, Jojo," the rich voice beside him rung out, entering his ears and rattling around in his skull.

"You … you poisoned me?" Jonathan's question was more pleading than he wanted it to be, but he wanted answers, needed to know what was going on.

"Merely a sedative, my love," Dio's voice was smooth and held no malice as it continued to bounce around in the young Joestar's skull as he slipped further into unconsciousness.

The hand was removed from his chin softly, fingers trailing across his cheek as they retreated. And Jonathan fell to the floor, eyes fighting to stay open, to stay alert. And he watched as Dio turned from him, picked up the medicine for their father, and walked gracefully down the hallway, body blending with the darkness.

"D-Dio ..."

Chapter 4

End

A/N: Oh snap, another freakin' cliffhanger; this is just cruel, haha. Thank you so much for reading! As always, reviews are super appreciated, and I hope you're continuing to enjoy!