A/N: Whoops! Got sick for a few weeks there, haha. Anyway, please enjoy!

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 5-

It had begun to rain. Softly at first, and then harder until the streets turned to sloppy mud and dirty puddles. The wind rang hollow through the trees, an ominous sign as the air was stagnant and heavy. It held a deep sorrow and fear to it, almost foreboding. But it had been long before the rain was merely more than a light drizzle that Speedwagon and Erina has crept inside the large Joestar manor, carefully making their way through the long hallways and elaborately decorated rooms.

The act was odd, however. Erina wasn't accustomed to sneaking through people's homes uninvited. Her accomplice Speedwagon, on the other hand, seemed to know just how to hide in the shadows and slide along the walls silently. It was reassuring to the small woman, in a way, to know that she had such experienced help on her side.

But it was dark within the manor. Cold, eery, unwelcoming. The only noise was the sound of wind outside, the rain now beating on the windows. It made their pursuit of Dio easier, since they would be harder to spot, but the adoptive Joestar knew this place better than either of them, so if he already knew that they were there, it would be a problem.

Erina shivered despite herself at the thought. Dio watching them, stalking them. Letting them think they had an upper hand at a supposed surprise attack. Those red eyes glaring at them through the darkness as they traversed new territory. Teeth glinting in an awful smile. And it was almost as if the shaggy haired man beside her read her mind as a large hand was placed gently on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Don't worry, Erina," his voice was low, but confident, "Back-up is on it's way."

The blonde haired woman nodded to herself before casting a glance towards Speedwagon who gave a small smile in reply.

There was no turning back now, she had to let Jonathan know what Dio was up to. She would let no harm come to anyone this day.

-x-o-x-

His smile only grew wider as he heard Jonathan's body collapse fully to the ground. Oh, what a sight it surely was; his brother, so strong and kind, crumpled on the floor in despair. His brother was too trusting, that was what caused him to be in this state in the first place.

"Soon, my dear Jonathan," the lighter haired man's words left his lips in a whisper, cold and hard as the weather outside, "And then we can be together."

Dio clutched the stone mask harder to his chest, running a thumb over the intricacies and crevices that covered the front of the thing. It was a work of art, truly. A bit devoid of beauty, perhaps, but it was bold and rough and inspiring. Holding it gave the adoptive Joestar a sense of power, a sensation of fear and dread. But he enjoyed it, wanted to fill more of it. And knowing that it soon would be the end of George Joestar and the true beginning of his life once more, Dio's chuckle could not be silenced as it echoed around him in the hallway, seeming to concentrate on the sliver of light creeping from beyond his father's doorway.

-x-o-x-

"Father," the voice was stern, laced with fake concern. But either it be that George missed it or ignored the tone completely, he turned towards his son and smiled weakly, eyes meeting Dio's.

"Why, Dio," the older Joestar coughed violently into his arm, trying to clear his throat and regain composure, "Always a pleasure. What brings you here at this hour?"

His lips held tightly together, eyes reflecting the candlelight by George's bedside and causing them to glow dangerously, Dio said nothing as he approached the sickly man, fingers now shaking around the mask in anticipation. He could feel his blood pumping though his veins, hot and concentrated. The feeling of his heart beating against his ribcage, the sound of blood in his ears. He wanted to smile, oh how he wanted to tell his "father" of his magnificent plan!

But he would wait; wait until the life was fading from George's eyes, wait until all the blood pooled from his face, wait until he breathed out a sickly, "Why?" Then, and only then, would Dio give his dear father the satisfaction.

"Dio?" the weak voice once again traveled to his ears.

A smirk, and then, "Father, do I need a reason to come see you? Perhaps I just wanted to spend some time with my father, is all."

The smile spread weakly across George's lips, "Of course, son."

Son. A word merely three letters in length but holding such importance. If situation allowed it, Dio would've laughed maliciously at this. It was so easy to integrate himself into this family, into their hearts. They all trusted him and respected him. All of them thought he was such a fantastic guy, someone to be respected and adored.

And they were right.

The blonde haired young man sat on the edge of the bed, fingers still running along the length of the stone, feeling it's rough edges and curves more than ever. It was time, it was finally time. In mere moments, George would be choking in a pool of his own blood, throat struggling for breath. It was going to be a gorgeous cacophony of sound, a real treat for the eyes.

And there was no time like the present.

Dio's hand shot out quickly, gripping George Joestar's neck harshly and rough, fingernails digging into the skin. Immediately, the younger man could feel the tendons pulsing against his fingertips, panic and confusion creeping into him and mixing with anger and enjoyment and sadism. His laughter rang out loudly in contrast to the faint choking. George's lips moved tentatively, trying to find the words but not being able to express them.

The laughter grew louder, "Yes, that look in your eyes father," the last word being stressed with unmistakable sarcasm and loathing, "It is exactly the way someone should look right before they die!"

"Dio!"

And then a succession of shots rang out, smoke now filling the air lightly as the bullets whizzed through the dimly lit room and near Dio's feet and head. His grip loosened on the elder Joestar's neck as he tried to piece together the current situation.

Looking towards the doorway, the lighter haired man's face formed into an immediate sneer. A small group of the local police department stood at the ready, guns aiming for his head. To their right stood a tall, unfamiliar man with a scare running down his face to frame his cocky smile, and even still amongst all of them, stood Erina. Her face confident, light blue eyes shining in pride and determination. Hair framing her face as she stood with hands on her hips.

It was the most ugly and enraging thing Dio had ever had the misfortune of looking upon.

Hand now retracted completely from his father's throat, Dio's eyes narrowed dangerously, the reds of his irises darkening cruelly and with hate. This woman, this goddamn bitch. He cursed himself colorfully for not finishing her off sooner. She would be laying at the bottom of a grave right now if the young Brando had his way. Nature taking good care to destroy and mock her "beauty."

"Well, well, well," the young man's voice was cruel as it spoke, "Looks like you brought some backup, Erina."

"Your evil deeds come to an end now!" the higher pitched voice of the mysterious blonde haired man replied loudly, seemingly triumphant, "This courageous woman stood in the face of danger and overcame all odds to be where we are today. And I, the meddling Speedwagon, joined her in foiling your plans!"

"Where's Jonathan?" Erina's tone was light around Speedwagon's speech as she quietly voiced her concern, eyes scanning the room, losing their former resolve.

Dio couldn't contain the smile as he spoke, "Oh, you want to know where Jojo is, do you, Erina?"

She squeaked lightly, not having realized the man still sitting on the bedside heard her. Face blushing slightly at her embarrassment, she said nothing as a chuckle began erupting abrasively through the large room.

"He's fine, no need to worry. What you really should be worry about … is yourself."

The candle by the bedside table flickered suddenly as Dio shot up from the bed, grabbing Erina before anyone dare make a move.

His laughter grew now, louder and more evilly than before. His hand once again found it's way to her throat and squeezed it, having a much easier time than with George's. His fingers wrapped around the pale skin heavily, feeling the air leave through her windpipe coarsely.

Eyes going wide, the lighter haired woman clawed at Dio's hands, trying in vain to make him lose his grip. She was dying. Her mind began going fuzzy, blank. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she realized the finality of what was happening. She tried to do so much, she gained the upper hand, and because of one slip up, she was paying the price. Was being punished for doing the right thing?

And right before her eyes closed in acceptance, a high pitched scream rang out beside her, filling her ears. Eyes going wide, she felt the looseness in Dio's grip and ripped the fingers from her throat, gasping.

Running to the safety of Speedwagon and the others, she noticed their faces were painted with surprise, and spinning on a heel to gain a better hold of the situation, she now realized why.

Blood was pooling from Dio's chest, red matching the color of his eyes that were now staring wild and desperate to the ceiling. A knife was being twisted within the flesh, cold steel now being stained the familiar red of blood. The young man's throat continued to rip forth a scream as the blood now made it's way from the corner of his lips, running along his chin and neck. It mixed with his clothes, dying them, staining them with revenge.

And it was George Joestar who held the knife firmly within the chest, struggling to get away. And even in his sickness, as he laid in his bed near death, the elder Joestar was able to find it within him to use the last of his strength in subduing his child, his dead, misguided son. But soon enough, his strength gave out and he released the knife, struggling into a sitting position on the edge of his bed, coughing lightly.

Dio's knees gave out beneath him as he fell to the ground, blood flowing ever steady as it proceeded to make a pool underneath him. His fingers slipped against the wooden floor, now slippery and wet. Words escaped him as the knife pumped along with his heart, squelching inside of his chest as the blood lapped at the blade.

The stone mask had fallen out of Dio's pocket at this time, clattering to the ground in the bloody pool. And the young Brando, the adoptive Joestar, stared at it with wide eyes, blood silencing him as it seemed to crawl endlessly from his throat. He could feel his life slipping away from him with every drop of blood he lost.

This was not supposed to happen, this wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Everything was wrong.

Everything was …

"J-Jonathan," Dio's lips formed the name of his brother, his lover, his everything in this world. He wanted to feel him again, wanted to breath in his scent. Dio Brando wanted nothing else in this world besides Jonathan. And as he slipped into unconsciousness, eyes blurring, he swear he saw his dearest Jojo smiling …

The young man's body finally fell limp and gave way completely. Body collapsing heavily to the ground now, Dio's face falling perfectly inside the mask. And as soon as his flesh came in contact with the hideous tool, the stone spines of the mask shot out and buried themselves within his skull, a sick, crunching noise accompanying it.

Then there was more blood as the mask pushed everything from the dead man's skull, body contracting with one final spasm before it came to a deadening halt in it's own blood.

Erina's hands had long since found their way to her face, covering her mouth, eyes releasing tears. But they weren't of sadness or fear. No, rather, they were from relief. He was dead; Dio Brando was finally dead.

-x-o-x-

"Mr. Joestar!" the voice of the chief commander of the police force called out, ushering him and his men over to the tired body on the edge of the bed, small smile gracing it's features.

"Are you alright, sir?" the chief continued, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, yes," George's voice was weak, but coherent, "A little more excitement than I'm used to, but fine, haha."

The small chuckle lifted the fog of uncertainty from the atmosphere, and immediately, the inhabitants of the room went to mimic the older Joestar's relaxed body language.

"Oh, I'm so happy," Erina's smile was tiny, yet sincere. It was all such a horrifying experience, really. Dio had taunted her, mocked her for so many years, and to think that he was finally gone for good, would never be hurting anyone ever again … it was a wave of the purest relief. Though, a small worry did tug at the back of her mind concerning Jonathan, she chalked it up to him being out of the house. Perhaps that's why Dio had decided to make his move, because his brother was not able to stop him.

"I knew we could do it, my dear!" the voice of Speedwagon called out happily beside her, reassuring hand back on her shoulder.

"You're a great ally Speedwagon, thank you."

A blush spread across his cheeks as he tipped his hat down, smile clearly visible as he turned his eyes away, "It was a pleasure, of course!"

"Sir! The body!"

The room once again took a foreboding turn, atmosphere being overlain with fear. Upon hearing the word body, the small woman turned immediately to where Dio's body should have been only to find nothing. Nothing but a disturbed puddle of blood.

"But how!?" the fluffy blonde haired man's voice was shrill, instinctively coming closer to Erina in case she needed protection.

"Keep on your guard, everyone! Dead people don't just get up and walk around," the men of the police force readied their weapons in all directions, fear and uneasiness clearly showing on their features.

"Fools."

Blood sprayed the air and painted the walls and bedsheets and curtains. The rain pounded more heavily against the windows now, almost wanting to break as the glass tried to hold off against the onslaught. A sickening laughter joined that pounding rain, growing louder and more shrill.

"Fools!" the voice rang out again, hand twisting around in George Joestar's chest, mimicking the knife from earlier. Blood spilling over clawed fingers, covering pasty flesh.

Erina's scream tore from her throat before she could contain herself. The feelings of despair and hopelessness and fear flooded back within her as she watched the fingers open and close reflectively out of George's chest, causing the blood to flow faster, until it was yanked out completely.

The older Joestar was dead before he hit the ground. And the hand that had been swimming around in his insides, playing through his organs, now held the dead man's heart in it's fingers. Squeezing it suddenly, causing another waterfall of blood to drown the limp body's head, being soaked up by his hair.

"Impossible!" Speedwagon cried out, grabbing Erina's shoulders and pulling her behind him, "Dio's still alive!"

The supposedly dead body of Dio Brando was now hanging from the ceiling, eyes shimmering a vengeful crimson that matched perfectly the blood he was now licking from his fingertips. Canines sharp, glittering from the bit of candlelight that was left, smile sick and twisted as he scanned the frightened inhabitants of the room.

"Men! Fire!"

Gunshots rang out once again, piercing Dio's body. But the man did not fall from the ceiling, didn't even flinch. Instead, his smirk grew wider, teeth now fully showcased, as his laughter, too, increased in volume and sounded sickening cruelty.

Hands sliced through skulls and chests and limbs far too easily. More blood pooled to the floor, staining the wood and leaking along the cracks and crevices of the floorboards. Bodies fell limply, some screaming, others long since having lost the spark of life.

The few police men that were left held their guns shakily, looking at each other in desperation and the deepest, purest form of fear.

But as they continued to shoot at the beast who was once a man, now having landed gracefully on the ground, it seemed to be a pointless endeavor as their bullets did absolutely nothing to him.

And Dio's eyes were focused on none other than Erina as he dragged one of the lifeless bodies beside him, fingers sucking the blood from his body, turning him into nothing but a skin sack of bones.

"Useless," the man's voice was quiet but commanding as he spoke, smile spread feral, "I told you, Erina, that it was useless to oppose me. But you … you're such a stupid girl, you couldn't leave well enough alone. And where has it gotten you, hmm? You caused so many more people to die. It was all so useless, useless, useless!"

He sprung himself at the tiny woman as she clutched desperately to Speedwagon's shoulders. What could she do now? Hold her hands out in front of her, meet him head on? Dio was some sort of monster now, it was hopeless …

"D-Dio!"

All bodies stopped. The sound of faint moaning and pouring rain became drowned out completely. And as the door creaked open fully, Jonathan Joestar resting against it's door frame, body heavy and tired, one could've heard a pin drop perfectly in the manor.

It was Erina's voice that recovered first, "Ah! Jonathan!" Eyes filling with tears again, feet staying completely still, lest she incur Dio's wrath in the confusion.

But the blonde haired vampire didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he completely did not care. He abandoned his current position in favor of coming to rest before Jonathan, pinning his large body against the wall.

Fingers held tightly to wrists, his keen senses now completely being able to feel his brother's blood flow through his veins. It was intoxicating, it was invigorating. It was something only Jonathan would ever be able to spark in him. Lust getting the better of himself, Dio crushed his lips against the larger man's, pulling out a faint moan as he did so.

Jonathan's body was still weak from the drug, still barely able to stand, but that only made the young Brando want him more. He sucked and pulled at the darker haired man's lips, twirled his tongue hotly over the other's. He felt the blood circulating, pulsing. He felt it in all his senses as it swirled around inside him. Teeth wanting to sink into the large neck, to hear his adoptive brother's cries, to see those beautiful eyes fill completely with lust.

And before he could act on his contemplation, a sharp, sheering sensation shot through his skull. Dio watched as his own blood sprayed over Jonathan's face, intense, blue eyes seeming to glow behind all the dark, deep crimson.

Releasing his lover, Dio spun around sharply and was able to grab Erina's wrist.

"You really are a foolish girl," the vampire's voice was unkind as he spoke, nearly screaming as he crushed the woman's wrist in his hand easily now.

Screaming, body weak, Erina managed to slap the blonde haired man with her free hand weakly before stammering, "I won't … let you hurt … him, you … bastard."

She was thrown to the ground with a sickening crash, broken wrist now beginning to swell. Speedwagon tried to intercept the next blow with a trick of his own, but was, too, thrown carelessly to the side by Dio who had swatted him away like he was nothing.

His own voice had choked out a mangled cry as his back and head clattered against the foundation of the house, knocking him out on impact. And then the brave man's body came to rest besides the other fallen men, breathing ragged and pained.

Eyes never left his prey as Dio's feet crushed through the wooden floor boards, splintering the wood around him. Erina had given him trouble for the last time.

"Now die, you worthless piece of trash."

Arms wrapped around his chest, strong and warm, keeping his attack at bay. Dio would know those arms anywhere, and as realization hit him, his eyes lost their maliciousness for an instant, bared teeth retracted behind pale lips.

"Jojo."

"Please, Dio," Jonathan buried his face in the back of Dio's neck, breath warm against his lifeless skin. He could feel the sweat on his brother's brow, could hear the tension in his voice as he continued to speak, "Don't hurt them … please … please don't hurt anyone else."

"Father's dead," was the one reply. It was a test, really. A test to Jonathan to see how he would react, to see how Dio would need to mold him, shape him and whip him into perfection. In a way, he wanted to cause more despair within the bloody room than he already had.

So he had not been expecting a calm, "I know," in return.

A look of surprise flashed before his eyes before returning to his stone faced, cruel demeanor.

"I'm sorry, Dio," Jojo's voice was sad, but strong as he spoke, arms wrapping more tightly around his brother, "I don't know what caused you to do all this, I don't know what happened to you in life that caused you to be filled with so much hate and pain, but … please, don't hurt anyone else. If you have to kill someone … let it be me."

Jonathan Joestar's legs gave out beneath him as he sank to the floor, hold on Dio never faltering.

"Dio, I … I should be more upset with you, I should want you dead … but I just can't, I-," the younger Joestar's voice was weaker now, sadness completely overtaking it as he spoke, "You've never been truly happy … I just want you to be happy."

The vampire turned in his adoptive brother's grasp and knelt down, taking his lover's face in his hands, feeling the tears as they ran over his fingers. They, too, were warm. It was a thought that crossed Dio's mind, knowing he'd never feel the warmth of life again. And even with that knowledge, he was surprisingly content with himself.

But then Jonathan opened his eyes and stared directly into his; pure, honest and then the larger man spoke once more, "I love you, Dio."

Dio held his grip, eyes unchanging as he gazed into his brother's.

"L-let him go, you monster!" Erina's voice was weak, trying to feign strength. Her body laying on the floor, clutching her broken wrist to her chest, tears streaming from her face as well.

The vampire ignored her protests as he continued to grip Jonathan's face, sobs threatening to escape his throat as his eyes squinted into further sadness.

Dio looked so ruthless now, so uncaring. And as fingers curled tighter into his face, Jonathan didn't fear the death that awaited him, rather, he felt sorrow for letting his brother down, for not being there when he obviously needed him. The world would be plunged into darkness, but no one would ever know Dio like he did, no one would ever truly understand him the way he had let Jonathan.

The lighter haired being's face inched ever closer to Jojo's now, lips quivering at the almost contact, warm breath mingling with frostbitten death, and then a sincere, loving whisper, "And I love you, Jonathan."

The cold hands left his face, the tendrils of frozen fingertips leaving a chill across his cheeks. As Jonathan looked up into the night now, moon from the window being blocked out by a large form, rain and wind no longer pounding on every inch of the structure.

And he could hear Erina in the distance, but didn't pay attention to the words. He could see some of the fallen bodies moving around him, hear their groans as they lifted themselves up off the ground to gain their bearings. But what the young Joestar heard most clearly, as if there was no other sound in the room, was the voice of Dio as it spoke to him sadly, "Goodbye, Jojo."

The moon flooded back into the room, casting shadows over the bodies as Dio Brando leapt from the window, into the now still night, darker and more chill than it had been in a long, long while.

Chapter 5

End

A/N: And NOW the story really gets to veer off from the original, haha. I appreciate everyone who's been patient with me so far and actually been enjoying this! As always, reviews are always appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed!