Welcome back! No warnings for this chapter


Jackson sent Ignacio to a nearby gas station for ice, before beckoning Jotaro towards the sanctuary where Carmen was waiting, "Father Ignacio doesn't like it when I lie." He cocked his head towards Jotaro, who was avoiding his gaze, "Of course, I could prepare Miss Diaz for the truth."

Jotaro hesitated, "I'd rather not."

Jackson's eyes were piercing, "May I ask why?"

Jotaro twisted away, struggling to put words to the discomfort in his belly, "She worries so much. I wouldn't want to burden her." But it wasn't just that. She was so sweet and pure. What if she found his powers diabolical? What if knowing changed her?

"Not everyone can handle the truth," Jackson said.

Damn, could he read minds too? No, he was just shrewd. He didn't give the air a strange mystic quality, like Ignacio or Joseph.

Jackson leaned closer, "Do you think that parable Father Gomez shared today really happened?"

Jotaro tilted his head, "I mean, it could have, but it's hard to think of a time history when-"

"Exactly," Jackson cut him off, "Sometimes it's enough to tell the essence of a story."

Jotaro nodded, though he wasn't quite sure what Jackson was saying.


Jackson was a born liar. He approached Carmen with a suave smile. "I need to borrow your beau for the afternoon."

She tittered at the wording, clutching her hands to her chest, but her head moved slightly forward, "He vol- volunteered already?"

"I believe service is the best way to understand the church," Jackson put his hand on her shoulder and winked, "Most priests, you confess and it's five Hail Marys. Me, you get one, plus go clean the leaves off the steeple."

Carmen giggled for a lot longer than Jotaro expected. He gave Jackson a dirty look.

The priest's voice quickly became serious, "I'm sorry to spring this on a guest, but we promised to read the bible to some drug rehab patients, and three volunteers got sick this morning."

Carmen pursed her lips, turning to Jotaro, "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I don't mind," he said.

Her face softened, "That's really nice of you."


By the time Jotaro and Jackson got back to the mausoleum, the boy was soaking in a porcelain tub full of freezing water that Ignacio had dragged into the middle of the stone floor. He sat on a stool nearby, holding the boy's mangled hand.

"Let's go over the ground rules," Jackson said, drowning out Ignacio mumbling a prayer, "If the battle goes outside the church, we call it."

The priest's words were a double punch to Jotaro's gut. "You've done this before? And what do you mean by call it?"

"Enzo isn't the first child brought to us for exorcism. But we're not saving lives if bystanders get hurt." Jackson held out his arms, and three red wreaths appeared. "My Bizarre Love Triangle is guaranteed to defeat an enemy." He motioned to Ignacio, who stood and brought out three figures of his stand: the white toddler, the blue book-wielding altar boy, and a bare-chested red boy in fur shorts. Jackson put a wreath around each child's neck, and when the final one was placed on the altar boy, the toddler disappeared.

Jotaro blinked, "Where did she go?"

Jackson shrugged, "Away from this world."

Jotaro turned to Ignacio, inspecting him for any sign of harm, but the white toddler slowly re-appeared. "They regenerate?"

Ignacio nodded, "If I'm well-hydrated, had a good sleep, ate breakfast, it's pretty easy to bring them back. If I'm hurt it's another story." He flicked his hand, and the figures retreated, then vanished, "I think you need to defeat all five to kill me." He sat back down next to Enzo, "Not that I've tried."

"Bizarre Love Triangle's wreaths must each be placed on a different human or stand," Jackson went on, "One target will be defeated, but it's God's will which." He tipped his head towards Ignacio, "Thankfully, we can place two wreaths on She Sells Sanctuary. That gives us a one third chance of defeating an enemy with no risk to us."

"Minus the risk of cornering him and getting the wreath on his neck," said Jotaro.

"It's not perfect. But we can do it as many times as we need until God is on our side." Jackson stepped closer, giving his neck a sharp jerk as he met Jotaro's eyes. "The church shares its parking lot with a senior's home. There's a daycare just down the block. We need to agree that if the boy's stand goes outside the church, we place the wreaths."

Jotaro looked at Enzo, moaning in the bathtub. The thought made him sick to his stomach, but he nodded.


Jotaro kneeled by the bathtub, holding Enzo's hand, which was strange and elongated, and a bit too hard for a hand, almost like a flipper. Jackson gave the boy a few breaths from a gas tank. Enzo began to squirm, mumbling in a foreign language. Maybe Italian.

"I'm Jotaro. Do you speak English, Enzo?"

Ignacio shuffled towards the tub, and his stand's blue robed figure appeared. It started reading from its book. Suddenly, Jotaro could understand Enzo's words.

"It hurts," the boy whimpered, "My legs." He tugged at Jotaro's collar with his free hand, which felt like a claw.

Jotaro swallowed, avoiding looking into the tub. "You have the power to make yourself healthy again." He whispered over Enzo's moans, "Picture your legs the way they were before."

The boy's neck went limp, and his head rolled back, supported by the tub's edge. His chest poked up, covered by a dark rash. Where had the water gone? The tub was half empty, with swirls of white liquid rising to the surface. "More ice!" Jotaro called out to Jackson and Ignacio.

The priests' shoes splashed in a puddle, then Jotaro saw a large hole in the side of the bathtub that Enzo's body had hidden earlier. "He's dissolved the tub," Jotaro yelled. Jackson threw a bag of ice over his shoulder, and trekked through the water. Cubes poured over Enzo's chest. He sobbed, then sat up straight, suddenly, as if he was possessed.

"Enzo …" Jotaro said, but the boy's eyes were glazed over. He grabbed a handful of ice and threw it in Jackson's direction. Jotaro arms flew forward, grasping the boy by his wrist to restrain him. But he was slick from the water, and he pulled one hand free. Before Jotaro could reach for it, its hardened fingers slammed his face. He slid back on the wet floor, tasting blood dripping down his cheek. The boy's strength was unnatural. Releasing Star Platinum, Jotaro crawled back towards the tub, but it was already too late. Enzo leapt out of the tub, and ran naked into the crypt, quickly escaping the stand's range.

Jotaro jumped to his feet and chased after him, but he slipped on the wet floor. He could hear the boy's feet clinging to and detaching from the floor like suction cups. Pulling his feet out of his shoes, Jotaro ran forward, gaining traction. He'd almost caught up to Enzo. But a puddle came off the boy's body, unexpectedly, miraculously and Jotaro stumbled. It was thick and tan, like paint. Jotaro steadied himself, grabbing the wall. In the distance, Enzo reached a stained-glass cross. Effortlessly, he broke off a piece and threw it at Jotaro.

Jotaro ducked, dodging one piece, then another. They shattered on the floor as Enzo darted further away.

Gathering all the strength he had, Jotaro powered forward. He saw Jackson coming towards him, cutting off Enzo. The boy reeled around, and Jotaro caught him by his waist. A sharp elbow slammed into Jotaro's chest, almost winding him, but he held on. "Enzo," he gasped, "Imagine you're sleeping."

Enzo squirmed and flailed, oblivious to Jotaro's words. He swayed back and forth, pushing his feet off the floor. Suddenly, he slipped free. Jotaro gaped. He'd been holding him. His shirt sleeves were stained in the same tan paint he'd nearly tripped in. He suddenly understood. It was Enzo's liquified skin.

"You can make things liquid and you can make them solid again," Jotaro called out. "Focus. You can control it." Unaware, Enzo ran a few steps, then started screeching. He rubbed his arms, which were bare and skinless.

The trance breaking, Enzo wailed. "Please. It hurts-" Suddenly the stone floor became liquid, like a sinkhole. The boy wailed, falling into sloshing sludge. He went below the surface, then came up, thrashing. "Help," he screamed, with frightened, childlike eyes. He either didn't know how to swim, or couldn't with his mangled limbs.

Throwing his jacket to the ground, Jotaro jumped into the pool. He spread his arms to swim, then started flailing, a recent class field trip to a sewage treatment plant flashing through his mind.

"The most important rule," the elderly guide had warned , "Is to stay out of the wastewater."

Melissa nudged Jotaro, laughing, "Who would jump into piss?"

"Dead people," the guide, who was clearly taken with Melissa, interrupted, "Humans can't swim in sewage."

Her face screwed up, "Wait, what?"

"Water's dense," the guide said, moving closer to Melissa "Which is why you can swim in it." He gave her a lecherous wink, like he was imagining her in a bikini. Jotaro squared his shoulders, wondering at what point he owed it to Trent to step in.

The guide stepped back, "But as soon as you add sewage to water, it loses density." His voice became stern, "Make no mistake, if you fall into wastewater, you'll sink to the bottom, no matter how hard you try to swim, like you would in a tank of air."

"Imagine that," Melissa chuckled, nudging Jotaro again, "Drowning in shit."

Enzo's conjured liquid wasn't sewage, but it wasn't dense enough to swim in either. Jotaro managed one last breath before he started sinking towards the bottom, though he paddled with all his might. He brought out Star Platinum, and grabbed his arms with his stand's, trying to lift himself. But he hadn't used his stand for months. He was out of practice. Focusing as hard as he could, pulling with all of his stand's strength, he slowed his sinking. Jotaro kicked his feet as hard as he could. That was enough. He wasn't moving downward any more. Bubbles escaping his mouth, he looked for Enzo. The magic liquid was a strange, translucent skin tone, and he could see the boy moving his raw arms, like he was climbing a ladder. He wasn't sinking as fast as Jotaro had. The liquid must be denser there.

Summoning his strength, Jotaro used Star Platinum to move himself towards Enzo. He got about a foot before exhaustion stopped him. Jotaro pumped his arms to test the liquid, but it still wasn't dense enough to swim. He strained to pull himself again, and again, each time getting closer. But his hands still cut through the liquid like it was air. He tried one more time, but the lack of oxygen was making him woozy. He started to drift off, his eyelids drooping.

What would Jackson tell Carmen? Probably that a junkie had stabbed him. Jotaro forced himself awake. Using every bit of strength he had, he pulled himself through the liquid. He flapped his arms, and they propelled him slightly. It was harder than swimming through water. Jotaro felt like he was lifting hundreds of pounds. But he was moving.

Batting his arms as hard as he could, Jotaro slowly rose through the liquid. He scooped up Enzo, then pushed to the surface. He sucked in a deep breath.

"Enzo," he panted, paddling as hard as he could to keep them afloat, "Make the spot beneath us solid." With a second's hesitation, he dug his fingers into a raw part of the boy's arm.

Enzo moaned.

"Picture it!'

The liquid beneath them became goopier. Jotaro could support them by just kicking.

"Good," Jotaro gasped, "You can do it. Just focus."

A piece of floor formed beneath them.

"Good boy," Jotaro huffed, collapsing. His eyes closed and he felt like he was about to pass out. He took a few deep breaths, relaxing his exhausted muscles, then heard a strange sloshing sound, first quiet, then louder. His eyes snapped open. The stone ceiling above them was sagging dangerously.

"Fix the ceiling," Jotaro said quickly, "Picture it." The stone retracted. Then there was a terrible noise, and a crushing weight crashed down on his shoulders. He gasped for air, still lightheaded. They were in a small cavity, boxed by stone. It was slowly filling up with liquid. "Fix this, Enzo." Jotaro pinched his mottled arm.

The boy babbled back in Italian.

Fuck, was Ignacio dead? Or had the collapse forced his stand out of range? Jotaro dug his nails into Enzo's arms, trying to find the sorest spots. If he caused the boy enough distress, he might dissolve the stone. The rising liquid was getting close to their mouths. Enzo inhaled some and started to cough.

In a moment of frustration, Jotaro slapped Enzo hard, across the face. The boy cried out, but the slab above them started to drip. Jotaro jabbed him in the chest with great force. The ceiling splashed down. Jotaro paddled his arms. Thankfully, the liquid was goopy.

Grabbing Enzo by the arm, Jotaro swam. Up and up and up, though it felt like there was no end. They emerged in the sanctuary where Jotaro had sat through Mass. Pews bobbed on the rippling surface. Jotaro caught sight of Jackson and Ignacio riding one like a liferaft.

"Send out the altar boy," Jotaro called to Ignacio, and the blue figure appeared, reading his book.

"You can do this," Jotaro said, "It's going to hurt, but you've got to fight this." Jotaro focused too, on his wish, on his desire, that this boy control his stand. The rippling slowed, and the floor felt like thick mud. "More," Jotaro whispered.

He heard a strange sound, and looked upwards. The church's ceiling was bouncing up and down, like jello. Waves surged through the walls.

"We're done," Jackson yelled.

Jotaro looked at Enzo. His hair was matted over his skull. His face was twisted with agony, "You need to do this now." Ignacio's voice echoed in the distance, mumbling the boy's last rites.

Enzo must have been Catholic, because he understood what was happening. He sobbed, clenching his fists.

"It's not too late," Jotaro murmured, "You can control this." He twisted Enzo's arm, "Do it." The church walls stopped quivering for a moment, but started again. Jotaro's stomach sank as Jackson put the wreaths on Ignacio's stand: the red boy and the white toddler. He tossed the final wreath to Jotaro.

"Last chance," Jotaro moaned, looking at the boy, "Please." Enzo's eyes squeezed shut, but nothing happened. Jotaro grabbed the wreath, then hesitated. The walls bulged outwards and the ceiling sagged feet above his head.

"There's innocent people out there," Jackson called out.

Jotaro forced the wreath over Enzo's head. The red boy vanished. Jotaro's shoulders dipped with relief. He shook Enzo, "Picture the walls solid, like a cartoon on TV." His body curled, but nothing happened. Jackson threw another wreath.

His heart in his throat, Jotaro grabbed it. "This one is going to kill you," he whispered. He could feel it in his fingertips. Enzo raised his hands above his head, blocking it. Looping the wreath around his arm, Jotaro grappled for Enzo's wrists, but he was slippery like a snake. The boy's eyes squeezed shut. Jotaro grasped his shoulders, then froze, stunned by sudden silence. The walls had stopped moving. He looked around, finding Jackson and Ignacio sitting on their pew, the floor solid.

"Good," Jotaro whispered, "Good." He stiffened, not wanting to look further, afraid the effect was temporary. But the church was falling back into place. The pews moved back into lines, then the floor gained carpet. Enzo's skin returned, then his hands went back to normal. He gained shorts, then a t-shirt, then flip-flops. Jotaro threw the wreath as far away as he could.

Jackson walked over, and held out his hand, helping Jotaro to his feet with a big grin. Enzo was still on the floor. Bending his arms over his head like he had to block the wreath, he whispered, "Bridge over Troubled Water," and a piece of the pew in front of him liquified, then became a wooden dog. He handed it to Jotaro, smiling.


Thanks for reading! This is my first time writing a stand battle, so please let me know what you thought!