Chapter note: this chapter contains the text of Shane Koyczan's poem "Instructions for a bad day", which can easily be found on YouTube with a bit of searching.

They had been living with Jojo and his father for seven years now, and if there was one thing that he and his dear sister both agreed upon, it was this: Jonathan Joestar was a hopeless fool. An amusing fool, to be sure, but nonetheless a fool boy who wouldn't be able to survive in the world as it was even when his life came to depend on it. Still, as far as family went, he was a better choice than most.

At the very least, he and his dear Alice would not be required to kill him.

While there were still times when he and dear Alice could make some of their own amusements, such as the time his sweet sister had pursued him through the kitchen and into the dining room wielding a ham as an impromptu bludgeon, Dio had come to resent the stifling restrictions that had been placed upon them by their new lives in the Joestar estate. Yes, he truly did enjoy the privileges and prestige that came with their new social position, but he couldn't deny that the pair of them had had a great deal more freedom of action and movement when they had been living in their London flat and Alice had been acting as a jack-of-all-trades around town.

Doing so under the same Threnody Cain for some odd reason; a reason that seemed to involve her own amusement, but one that she'd not deigned to share with him.

Still, here and now when the two of them had some time to themselves following their respective lessons, he was glad to have the chance for it.

However, he'd been becoming aware of a rather interesting development with regards to Jojo: it seemed that their dear brother had become enamored with the daughter of their local doctor, Erina Pendelton. It was rather amusing, hearing from his underlings at school just how taken Jojo was with the girl. He and dear Alice had made some observations of their own, as well, tracking Jojo and his lady love – Dio paused a moment, snickering as he reminisced on the overly-dramatic way his sweet sister had fluttered her eyelashes and mimed a swoon the first time she had said those words – as they sought to meet with one another.

It had also been rather interesting to see just how adept his dear Alice was at tracking people, and also remaining out of sight while she was doing so; it clearly must have been something she had learned while making her varied excursions around London.

However, at the moment his sweet sister wasn't present, leaving him as the only one to see if this Erina Pendelton might truly be worthy to join their illustrious family. Or, at the very least, to see if she would prove worthy of their adorable fool of a brother. Making his way over to where the young lady was sitting, looking rather fetching in her blue and white dress, Dio allowed himself to admit.

"So, this is the woman dear Jojo has become so enamored with," he said, announcing his presence as he came out from behind the row of trees where he had been standing, in order that he might observe Erina Pendelton without being observed in turn. "I must admit, the two of you do make a rather smart couple," he said, smiling as he began to circle around the woman, making a show of observing her from all angles. Erina looked rather uneasy, so Dio smiled wider to put the young lady at ease. "Very well, I suppose you do have some merits." Pulling the woman into his arms, Dio laid a firm kiss on the curve of her cheek. "Do see that you take care of him; Jojo isn't what anyone would call particularly bright."

Smirking at the expression of confusion writ large on her soft face – so unlike the sly, cunning smiles that his sweet sister would share with him when they would make their secret plans – Dio turned his path toward where he knew Alice would be, like as not working on her knitting, since such was a far more easily transportable hobby than the beautiful paintings that she would produce when she worked in the large studio that Lord Joestar had provided her with.

He found her seated atop one of the dullards that had attached themselves to him at only the most perfunctory of urging on his part, cheerfully continuing to knit.

He'd always found it amusing, the way that nothing ever seemed to affect her unless she wished it to, or unless she found some modicum of amusement in reacting to it. Making his way over to where she was seated, needles clicking neatly against one another as she kept at her work, Dio grinned.

"How have you been managing, dear Alice?" he asked, grinning as he glanced down at the buffoon she was using as a cushion.

"Well enough for my part, brother dear," his sweet sister said, eyes glittering with her usual amusement. "And you?"

He laughed lightly. "No complaints; no more than usual, at least." Crouching so that he would be able to see the project she was working on, Dio reached out to touch it. "Ah, lamb's wool. Wonderful thing for a pair of socks," he said, smirking at the amusement that spread over his sweet sister's face.

"Wonderful indeed," Alice returned, eyelids lowering slightly; her way of silently laughing at the world in a way that few others would understand. "Save for the part where I'm making a scarf."

The pair of them shared an amused laugh, before Dio settled himself on the ground to relax once more.

=PB=

When he was finally able to make his way home, Jonathan found himself wondering just what it was Dio had been at. Erina had been thoroughly flummoxed when they had occasioned to meet again, telling tales of the way Dio had kissed her cheek while he was giving his blessing for the two of them to continue courting as they were. He was pleased to have Dio's approval for his courtship, yes, but he still aimed to speak with his adopted brother. Familial affection or not, it was simply unseemly to go around kissing people when he wasn't invited.

And Erina had been quite plain about the fact that she hadn't invited him to do anything like that.

Finally standing in the salon again, looking down at Dio and Alice as the former read and the latter continued with her knitting, Jonathan stepped over to the chair Dio was seated in.

"Dio, I would have words with you," he said, not shouting, but certain that his words had been heard all the same, given the way Dio lifted his head so that the pair of them were looking into one another's eyes.

"Oh? How many words, dear brother? That was seven, right there," the amused smirk slowly spreading across the faces of both his adopted siblings made Jonathan purse his lips in disapproval; this was hardly a laughing matter! "Do you have more for me, perhaps?"

"I don't want you playing your games with Erina, do you hear me?" he asked, knowing that it would be improper in the extreme to take Dio by the shoulders and shake some decorum into him, but he almost wished that he could.

"Ah, I see the problem now," Dio said smoothly, rising to his feet with the same smooth, easy grace that Jonathan had tried and failed on many occasions to adapt for himself. "You're feeling left out, aren't you, Jojo? Well," the grin spreading across Dio's face widened all the more. "Let it never be said that I, Dio, am not generous with my favors."

Dio clapped his large, strong right hand on Jonathan's own right shoulder… and the next thing he knew- Dio's arms- Dio's lips…!

=PB=

Oh, to see the look on dear Jojo's face when he, Dio, kissed him unto the rest of eternity… Perhaps he would even ask dear Alice to paint it for him, though even such a masterpiece as his sweet sister would create could only ever be a shadow of the real event. Still, even a shadow could provide ample amusement under the right conditions…

He would speak to his sweet sister later; for now, there was still more amusement to be had with Jojo.

"Dio, you… I…"

Their adorably foolish brother spluttered for a few moments more, his cheeks steadily pinking as Dio continued to smile in that blandly pleasant way that his sweet sister had perfected for when she spoke to those whose opinion meant little more than a passing amusement to her. Granted, such a category encompassed nearly every person the pair of them were forced to meet by Lord Joestar, save for those who would make the effort to come to know Alice on her own terms. It was another thing he'd come to admire about his sweet sister: she only gave of herself on her own will.

"Well, my lothario brother, you certainly showed him."

Turning to grin in response to his sweet sister's dulcet tone, Dio saw that she was still knitting with the same facility she had demonstrated every time she'd had the chance to settle down and take some time for herself. Provided she hadn't chosen to paint, sew, or cook, of course.

"Well, you know how it is, sister dear: one should always give the people what they want," he grinned.

"Within reason, of course."

"Of course," he replied.

Jojo was bound to provide at least some further amusement to them, once he'd managed to regain his composure at least. Smiling to himself as he settled back into the chair he'd recently vacated, Dio picked up his book and calmly began to read once again. Time would tell just how much amusement Jojo could truly provide for them, but all the same Dio did so look forward to it.

=PB=

Time passed, as time did, and Sarah found herself in need of ever more creative means of relieving the boredom that seemed to be part and parcel of life as a woman in the Victorian Era. Re-teaching herself Parkour, and teaching it to Dio at the same time, provided something more for her to do than attend her various lessons and think up new and interesting ways of complicating George stuffed-shirt Joestar's life since he'd started insisting on her finding a husband. She hadn't even lived fifteen years of this new life of hers, and already the old fogey was bringing in marriage prospects.

She and Dio both agreed that that was bullshit, and had both resolved to handle the situations in the ways that were opened to them. For her, that mostly involved long excursions spent roof-hopping above the seedier parts of London, learning the lay of the land, and staying out of sight long enough for Dio to handle the problem in his own special way; she'd made sure to extract a promise that he wouldn't kill anyone.

That was how Fleetwood Mac had ended up meeting a man named Robert Edward O. Speedwagon; she'd nearly burst out laughing right in his face when he'd said that, which considering she'd just gotten out of a scrap with some of his lackeys, wouldn't have been the best idea in either of her lives. Even with as uncoordinated as pack of jackals he'd been ostensibly leading was, there had been a lot of them. Enough brute force could wear down even the fastest and most cunning of fighters, which she could hardly call herself even with the experience of two lives backing her up.

Still, Rob had said he'd liked the cut of her jib, and even though he'd been under the mistaken impression that Sarah was a man under her close-fitted trousers, rough-spun cotton shirt, bulky, dun-colored overcoat, and jauntily tilted fedora, she'd still taken the compliment in the spirit it was offered; it wasn't like she'd gone out of her way to correct that misconception, since it was still useful to her in this day and age.

Still, at the moment she wasn't thinking about Mr. Speedwagon or any of his many and varied eccentricities – or his possible role in her family's future – Dio had looked a bit more stressed than usual, so she'd decided to show him the view from the fancy tower she'd discovered standing sentinel over the better part of London. It was hardly Big Ben, but since she wasn't playing Assassin's Creed, or remotely superhuman, she wasn't going to go trying to climb up the side of that particular building anytime soon.

"Quite a workout, sister dear," Dio said, from behind and a bit below her; he sounded a bit breathless.

"Getting tired already?" she called down, smiling as an answering grin spread across her brother's face.

The pair of them shared a laugh, as they continued on their way up the side of the tower to the slightly peaked rooftop.

Hauling herself up and over the edge of the roof with a last surge of muscle power, Sarah scooted across the rooftop to make room for her brother as he made his own way up to settle down beside her. Once the pair of them had managed to make themselves as comfortable as they could manage while they reclined atop the shingled rooftop.

"Quite the view, sister dear."

She hummed softly in response, but only half of her attention was focused on her brother's words; this was the best place that she had found, in all of Victorian London, to reflect on her thoughts and try to sort out this strange new life that she was living. It still felt strange to think about, but she'd lived almost as long as Alice Brando as she had as Sarah Williams; the name itself was even starting to settle more comfortably on her, like a coat she'd been wearing for some time; no longer ill-fitting and unfamiliar, but soft and worn smooth from all the time she'd spent in it.

There will be bad days. Be calm. Loosen your grip, opening each palm slowly now. Let go. Be confident. Know that now is only a moment, and that if today is as bad as it gets, understand that by tomorrow, today will have ended.

Be gracious. Accept each extended hand offered, to pull you back from the somewhere you cannot escape. Be diligent. Scrape the gray sky clean. Realize every dark cloud is a smoke screen meant to blind us from the truth, and the truth is whether we see them or not - the sun and moon are still there and always there is light.

Be forthright. Despite your instinct to say "It's alright, I'm okay" - be honest. Say how you feel without fear or guilt, without remorse or complexity. Be lucid in your explanation, be sterling in your oppose. If you think for one second no one knows what you've been going through; be accepting of the fact that you are wrong, that the long drawn and heavy breaths of despair have at times been felt by everyone - that pain is part of the human condition and that alone makes you a legion.

We hungry underdogs, we risers with dawn, we dissmissers of odds, we pressers of on – we will station ourselves to the calm. We will hold ourselves to the steady, be ready player one. Life is going to come at you armed with hard times and tough choices, your voice is your weapon, your thoughts ammunition – there are no free extra men, be aware that as the instant now passes, it exists now as then.

So be a mirror reflecting yourself back, and remembering the times when you thought all of this was too hard and you'd never make it through. Remember the times you could have pressed quit – but you hit continue.

Be forgiving. Living with the burden of anger, is not living. Giving your focus to wrath will leave your entire self absent of what you need. Love and hate are beasts and the one that grows is the one you feed.

Be persistent. Be the weed growing through the cracks in the cement, beautiful - because it doesn't know it's not supposed to grow there. Be resolute. Declare what you accept as true in a way that envisions the resolve with which you accept it.

If you are having a good day, be considerate. A simple smile could be the first-aid kit that someone has been looking for. If you believe with absolute honesty that you are doing everything you can - do more.

There will be bad days, Times when the world weighs on you for so long it leaves you looking for an easy way out. There will be moments when the drought of joy seems unending. Instances spent pretending that everything is all right when it clearly is not, check your blind spot. See that love is still there, be patient.

Every nightmare has a beginning, but every bad day has an end. Ignore what others have called you. I am calling you friend.

Make us comprehend the urgency of your crisis. Silence left to its own devices, breeds silence. So speak and be heard. One word after the next, express yourself and put your life in the context – if you find that no one is listening, be loud. Make noise. Stand in poise and be open. Hope in these situations is not enough and you will need someone to lean on.

In the unlikely event that you have no one, look again. Everyone is blessed with the ability to listen. The deaf will hear you with their eyes. The blind will see you with their hands. Let your heart fill their news-stands, Let them read all about it.

Admit to the bad days, the impossible nights. Listen to the insights of those who have been there, but come back. They will tell you; you can stack misery, you can pack despair, you can even wear your sorrow – but come tomorrow you must change your clothes. Everyone knows pain. We are not meant to carry it forever.

We were never meant to hold it so closely, so be certain in the belief that what pain belongs to now will belong soon to then. That when someone asks you how was your day, realize that for some of us – it's the only way we know how to say, be calm. Loosen your grip, opening each palm, slowly now – let go."

Sarah only realized that she'd been speaking aloud when she heard Dio chuckle softly, his head tucked neatly under her collarbone.

"How long have you been composing that, sister dear?" he asked, his tone not sounding particularly interested; she knew he was, of course, since if there was any thing that she and Dio shared it was their curiosity about this world and everything in it, but even without Dario's toxic influence to warp him, her brother still gave a lot of weight to what people thought of him.

She hadn't seen much point in that during either of her lives, but she made every effort to respect her brother's boundaries, even if she did think they were silly.

"Just something I've had in mind," she said, leaning back on her right arm as she looked into the darkening sky.

There was really no conceivable way she'd be able to explain the concept of reincarnation, alternate universes, future technology, the internet, and how all of those related to the free-form poem she would recite whenever she found a moment to herself, to reflect on her old life, and to help get her thoughts in order. Those moments weren't nearly as frequent as she'd have preferred them to be, not even as frequent as they had been during her life as Sarah, but at the very least she'd managed to take some time for herself. She could be content with that, at least.

Dio chuckled softly, as the pair of them continued staring up into the endless blue sky.

=PB=

He'd seen Jojo spending more and more time with that odd stone mask that had once hung so proudly in the salon of the Joestar estate, and as it was clearly fascinating in all manner of ways, Dio could hardly let such a tantalizing mystery go uninvestigated.

Making his way down into the estate's grand library, Dio paused for a moment to see if he could spot Jojo himself in the small study set just off from the rows upon rows of shelving. If there was one thing he knew about his and dear Alice's adorable fool of a brother, it was that he was well and truly eager to share his passion with anyone who would be willing to spare the time to listen to his ramblings. And he would inevitably ramble on; Jojo did tend to forget himself when he was expositing about a subject that truly spoke to him.

It was one of his more amusingly endearing qualities.

Still, when he finally did make his way into the study, Dio was only able to find scattered signs of Jojo's presence, rather than Jojo himself: the large table was piled high with heavy tomes, as well as notes with Jojo's distinctive scrawl upon them. The stone mask itself was also present, and as this was the first time that he, Dio had had a chance to do so, he made his way over to examine the artifact.

It seemed a perfectly ordinary thing, though clearly made with a rather exquisite attention to detail. It was rather amusing to note the stone fangs carved out so neatly, and to realize that the mask itself was clearly meant to resemble a vampire's face. He felt a smirk stretching his lips as he realized what kind of amusement he, Dio could create for himself with the circumstances that Jojo had so generously gifted him.

Slipping the stone mask onto his face, Dio crouched under the table that Jojo had set his study materials out upon, and proceeded to wait – silent and patient as he had ever been – for his and Alice's adorable fool of a brother to return. The sound of footsteps upon the elegant, polished wooden floors drew his attention back towards the rows upon rows of heavy shelving units that Jojo had apparently been hidden by. Grinning under the stone mask, Dio shifted so that he would more easily be able to leap out and startle Jojo.

Just as his and Alice's adorable fool of a brother came close enough to the table to reach out for the chair, he, Dio leaped out from under the table, shouting to startle Jojo.

He'd expected Jojo to jump backwards, perhaps even falling on his arse in a particularly amusing fashion, or perhaps to yelp loudly, after which he, Dio would have removed the stone mask and tweaked Jojo's nose with a laugh. Instead, he felt Jojo's right fist slam into his face, driving the rough stone of the mask into his nose with the full force of Jojo's boxer's strength. Feeling his own nose shatter against the interior of the mask's own shaped nose, Dio laughed softly… then, the pain…

=PB=

When he heard Dio's scream, that terrible, pained sound that his brother hadn't made even during those few times that he had ended up on the ground bleeding after one of their boxing matches. It was a sound of equal parts pain and terror; which only made it all the more chilling, as he had never before thought to hear the sound of terror from either Dio or Alice. The pair of them had always seemed so fearless, so collected, that to see Dio writhing on the ground screaming in agony… it was all the more horrible since he knew how Dio truly acted.

Grabbing his brother's flailing hands before he could clutch at the stone mask and attempt to pry it off, an act that was all too likely to cause him even more grievous harm than the stone spikes that had buried themselves in his brother's head, Jonathan restrained his brother with desperate strength. Jonathan had only seen those spines once before, when he had inadvertently splashed some of his own blood on the mask and hence triggered the expulsion of the spines. He'd no way of knowing just what the mask would have done to a living person, and this was not the way he would have wished to find out!

In fact given the location of the spines, and the fact that it had taken his own blood to activate them, Jonathan would have been perfectly happy to go his entire life without knowing!

"Dio, stay still!" he said, kneeling beside his brother's head. "I'll go get help! Stay here!"

Forcing himself back to his feet, already beginning to weep for what might happen to his dear brother, Jonathan hurried off to find Father and tell him of what had happened. He'd not blame Dio for this, what had clearly been one of his harmless japes gone so grievously, horribly wrong… He would explain to Father that Dio had suffered a terrible accident, and… he would also ask what he was to tell Alice.

Hurrying off with only a single, tearful look over his right shoulder, Jonathan went to find Father so that he could solve this terrible problem.

However, when he and Father returned to the library, he found it empty, save for the stacks of books that he had previously set out. Dio and the stone mask were both gone, but in their place was a loosely-folded sheet of paper, lying innocuously atop the table. Moving forward to pick it up, not quite having heard Father's words and knowing that he would be due for a lecture on decorum later, Jonathan unfolded the page.

Dio's flowing, elegant script greeted him:

Jonathan:

You've done me a great service this day, brother.

I, Dio, did so wonder how I would be able to help my sweet sister deal with these foolish obligations your father insisted upon forcing onto her. Though I feel that the two of us might be separated for some time, I, Dio, will make every effort to reestablish contact when circumstances permit.

Fondest regards;

Dio