He paced. Relentlessly that next morning. Flipping through endless pages. Books littered the room. Paper discarded like rotting food.

"How? How did this happen?!" His ceaseless pacing continued. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't let himself. In fear of the nightmare. What would his mother say?

He stopped. Amongst his swirling mind, it made room for him to listen. Footsteps. Of course, not his own.

He opened his bedroom door and peered into the hallway. The looming figure of a man stood at the end of it.

Dio closed the door with quite a fluster and sunk to the floor. It hadn't seen him. Thankfully.

Last night had been so tremendous. So spectacular. Pure insanity. And yet Dio felt hollow. The Jojo he wanted, no expected had not come to greet him. Those shallow eyes had no soul behind them. That hair was course and wiry. Not soft. Not wavy or shining a navy blue. Hollow.

Dio had taken to shivering every time he thought. Thought of that thing bearing the omnipotent nickname.

"Jojo." He whispered to himself. His mind bringing the previous night back from the dead as dread seeped in through the door. He was closer. Getting closer. A few footsteps at a time.

That thing was not Jojo. Not yet. But Dio couldn't bring himself to think of anything. What could he do to reignite those dormant memories within that shallow head? What could possibly reignite that spark?

The previous night returned back to his mind. He'd helped that thing to a spare bedroom along with Pucci. Ice had wanted nothing to do with any of it.

'Coward' Dio thought.

The door banged a little. He'd bumped into it. Faint murmurings and incoherent sounds whispered through the keyhole. Dio rose to his feet and turned to the door.

And begrudgingly opened it.

The hunched over creature looked up at his protector. Dio grimaced. It tried to mimic his steady stance. They stood at roughly the same hight. Chests bumped as it regained his balance. It reached for his face. Dio merely closed his eyes as he let it explore his exquisite features.

'After all it could help with his memories.' Dio told himself that but really, he wanted to get used to this thing. To feel Jojo's tender touch again.

"That's quite enough." His tone distant. His hand had reached and stopped it's fingers from touching him further.

"Why don't we go to the library?" Dio forcefully grabbed the creature's arm and dragged him down the hallway. Around the corner. Up some stairs. It followed willingly. Like a child following his mother.

"Dio?"

The one word it could say without fail. He merely snarled. The tone was completely off. Normally Jojo wasn't so soft when saying his name. Yet it was sweet. Gentle. Kind. Innocent. He knew not of the weight this word held nor the damage it had caused. He had caused.

Dio turned to it as they entered the grand library. He stopped in awe. 'What is this place? So many colours' his mind coming to terms with his surroundings.

"You can only come here."

It turned to meet his fiery gaze.

"And back to your room. You understand? I don't want to find you wandering the streets of Cairo." He let go of it's arm. "Feel free to read whatever you please. I'll be back in a minute." Dio backed up to the door. Eyes never parting from one another.

The library door shut. It's hinges moaned. The wood rattled in agony. The creature, Jojo, didn't know of the harsh grip Dio had on this place. He merely looked around. More awe and maybe excitement? A smile crept onto his face as he spun gently to take it all in. His balance though hadn't quite returned yet.

The blue scraggy book on the coffee table near the blackened ash fireplace caught his eye. He picked it up. Fingers where still new to him and the book almost fell. The first page turned then a few more. One page caught his interest.

A diagram. Of a face? How odd. Squiggles surrounded it with arrows and more drawings littering what room the pages offered. The page was a harsh yellow with scraps easily tearing away. Jojo's light touch barely made a seam or crease in the thinned paper.

He turned it gently. More drawings and squiggles. More arrows. More colour. A photo?

Jojo carefully dragged his fingers across it. No, a drawing? Whatever it was, it held the image of many faces. Faces he swore he knew? A man with a hat? A young lady sitting beside a rather large gentleman. A man with long hair? A small boy grinning?

He squinted. The faces where there in his mind. He knew them. A warm feeling flooded his husk of a body as he tried to make out the scribbles underneath. Though water had been spilled upon it and the yellowed page proudly displayed it's stains, he could make out a few letters? Is that what they were?

S? P? E? He couldn't connect the letters. But that girl...

The library door opened.

"Listen."

But Jojo was too busy sorting through his decrepit mind to realise.

"Jojo?"

"Don't call it that. Not yet." Dio hushed Pucci as it continued deeper into the book's trance.

"I think we should leave him be."

"But what about your plan?"

"Which one?"

"To trigger those memories?" Pucci looked between the bent over breathing corpse and his rather tall friend.

But Dio bathed in silence. Before he spat out "I suppose we could try one method today?"

The creature looked up at them, having finally freed himself.

"Where is she?"

"Who? What are you on about?"

"He's learning to speak alarmingly quickly." Pucci ushered under his breath.

"She, her." Jojo rapidly pointed to the girl on the page.

"Oh her." Silence fell for a while.

"She's dead."

"Dead?"

Pucci tilted his head from Dio to Jojo. Trying to get him to continue.

"I'll tell you another time. Right now, you need to come with us."