Warnings: domestic violence, suicide, ethnic slurs

Also, a general warning that I find this chapter is especially upsetting for reasons that are hard to summarize


Jotaro's neck drew back as he stared at Carmen's puffy face, then her feet, then the wall behind her. For a moment, it felt like the ground had jolted. When she'd moved in, he'd wondered how long it would take, given they were constantly going at it. But why now? Was he sure he was even the father?

Jotaro stopped time, entering an eerie silence. Maybe he could sense it. He stepped closer, putting his hand on Carmen's belly. He could feel the embryo's energy flickering as its cells divided and divided and divided. A girl. He was sure she was his.

Jotaro stepped back, facing Carmen. Blood pulsed through his veins. He let out a high, deranged laugh. "You think Ricardo is going to help you raise this baby?" That annoying waiter still hovered at the edge of Jotaro's vision. "Did he ever get a job?"

Carmen was crying again. "We've known each other since we were kids. He understands me." She took a gasping breath, "You- you're so cold-"

"Has he been feeding and clothing you?" Jotaro teetered on his feet, his throat going dry. His surroundings felt dim and plastic. Her chin trembled, and he was sick of it. He'd done everything she'd ever asked. Why wasn't it enough? "You're such a spoiled bitch," he snarled, slamming his palm into her face. "You fucking liar."

Jotaro felt a pang in his chest as Carmen lurched back into the wall behind her, clutching her cheek. He could hear the waiter shuffling behind him. Jotaro reeled off, storming away from the bar. He turned back to Carmen and bellowed into the air, "You said you loved me."


Tears stained Jotaro's face as he took a long swig from a bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, but it had barely begun to dull his pain. Everything had been so perfect. Where had he gone wrong? He finished the bottle, then regarded the fridge, considering wobbling over for some beer, but he fell back against the sofa instead.

Maybe he should jump off a building. Or in front of a moving train. Without Carmen, he didn't see the point of being alive. They'd have to work out the baby. That was the worst part. It wasn't like in Japan, where his daughter would just be his. He'd get her on weekends or something. At least that's how he thought it worked in America. It would slowly tear him apart, seeing Carmen week after week, watching her walk off with another man.

Then something worse occurred to Jotaro. He and Ricardo didn't look so different if you squinted. Would Carmen even acknowledge him as the father? It would take one lie to wash her hands of him forever. Jotaro imagined that little glimmering girl out there, somewhere, beyond his reach. It would destroy his soul.

Jotaro swayed over to the phone and punched in Joseph's number with shaking hands. Hearing the operator at the other end of the line, he tried again.

"Joestar residence," a voice answered. Joseph's assistant.

"It's Jotaro. I need to talk to Joseph."

The voice became gently snide, "It's 4 am here in New York."

"I know," Jotaro breathed, "It's an emergency." His voice was full of desperation.

The assistant paused. "I'll wake him."

It was a long while before Jotaro heard Joseph shuffling, and even longer before he picked up the phone, "What's going on?"

Jotaro stumbled through the story.

"I don't understand," Joseph said, "Can you slow down and say that all again?"

Jotaro repeated himself, trying not to slur his speech.

"Wait, what?" Joseph said, "Who's pregnant?"

Jotaro explained again.

Joseph let out a long breath. "I think I get it. I'll be there as soon as I can." Papers rustled on his end of the line, "I'm closing a deal tomorrow, but I'll fly out afterwards."

"Thank you," said Jotaro. He pictured him and Joseph snatching the baby in the middle of the night. Or perhaps Joseph could use his powers to persuade an officer of the court.

"I can tell you're upset," Joseph went on, "But sit tight. We'll fix this."


Jotaro shielded his eyes from the blinding daylight that poured in from the balcony as he woke up on his sofa late the next morning. He'd drooled on his shirt, and pants were stained with splashes of whiskey. Disgusted, Jotaro undressed, throwing his clothes in the hamper before stepping into a steaming shower. His head was aching.

The previous night ran through his mind as he lathered his body with heavy arms. It had all been just within reach. The beautiful wife. The happy home. Being important to the people around him. He rinsed off his body with his eyes closed. He'd be damned if he let it slip through his fingers.

Jotaro put on what he thought was one of his better suits, then called Camilo. "I need a favor, man. Where does Ricardo live?"

"The Beachview Flats," Camilo responded automatically, then hesitated, "But Carmen's not there."

"Where is she?"

"Here. In my dorm."

Jotaro couldn't face Oscar, so he bought a dozen roses from a store he'd never been to. He'd seen that in a movie somewhere. It couldn't hurt. Jotaro froze as he reached for the door of Camilo's flat. Being rejected by Carmen again would feel like having the skin being flayed off his body. But what other choice did he have?

Camilo's dorm contained nothing but a set of bunk beds and two desks. A sleeping bag was set up on the floor. Jotaro found Carmen lying alone on the bottom bunk. Camilo and his roommate must have gone to class. The bed was fine for a student, but Jotaro didn't like Carmen on something so rickety and uncomfortable in her condition.

He handed her the flowers. "I'm sorry I got so angry last night." As Carmen twisted her head towards him, he could see a mark where he'd hit her. He swallowed. Reluctantly, Carmen accepted the bouquet, nestling it on her chest, though she frowned. That was promising. He kneeled by the bed. "I want to know what I can do to make it up to you. What would it take to bring you home?"

She shifted on the bed, and Jotaro hated that he was here again. Letting Carmen make the rules while she trotted over his heart. But simply seeing her face awakened a strange calm within his chest. It was like she'd stitched a piece of herself inside of him that she could tug on at any moment.

Carmen stared up at the bed above her, biting her lip. Jotaro couldn't get over how stupid she was. Did she think she was going to raise a baby on Camilo's bottom bunk? But he forced his mouth shut. As she scanned the room, he wondered if it was starting to sink in, because she whispered, "I'm sorry, too." Carmen took a deep breath. "I always thought my life would go a certain way. I'd marry R- Ricardo and stay in Matanza-" Her voice fell off, "I know things have changed, but it's hard sometimes." She clasped her hands, "I promise nothing happened between us. I just wanted to say goodbye."

Jotaro slowly took her hand, and she let him. That was good. The tension was slowly dripping out of his body. He was annoyed, but he also felt bad for her. "I never thought I'd end up here either." He found her eyes, "But a lot of good things have happened, too. I met you."

Carmen smiled at that.

"And our children are going to have such good lives here. They won't go through any of this." Jotaro stroked Carmen's hand.

She relaxed a bit, closing her eyes. She didn't speak for a long while. "I'm so nervous about being a mother."

"You'll do a great job. You're kind, caring and organized."

Carmen's smile flickered.

Jotaro lowered his head, so it was closer to the floor than. He grasped her hand, like he was begging. "Please come home. I'll take such good care of you and the baby. I'll give you everything you ever wanted."

Carmen regarded him, her eyes distant, but then they focused. She wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry I've been such a mess," she whispered. She guided him up, so he was sitting on the side of the bed. He lifted her by her shoulders, slowly moving her into his lap. He needed to hold her.


Later that evening, Jotaro and Carmen relaxed on the sofa of his living room. He'd missed school, and she'd missed work, but it didn't matter. They were together again.

"You should give Oscar notice," Jotaro said, "It's not good for you to spend so many hours on your feet-" He was cut off by the phone ringing, and he jumped to answer it.

"I'm here," Joseph's voice rattled on the other end. Damn, he'd forgotten about calling him.

"Where exactly?" Jotaro asked.

"At the payphone in the parking lot."

Jotaro rushed out the door. He found Joseph leaning against the phone booth, illuminated by its lights. The old man straightened as soon as his grandson came into sight, giving him a big hug. "How are you doing?"

"Better than when we spoke," Jotaro said quickly, "Carmen and I had quite the fight, but I think we worked it out." Joseph's lip curled, so Jotaro added, "I'm sorry for the false alarm. Maybe we can take you for a nice dinner and you can get to know her."

Joseph's mouth remained gnarled, "What did you figure out?"

Jotaro glanced at the top of the phone booth. He wasn't quite sure how to say it, or why Joseph would want to know. "I suppose she's sad that-"

"I mean with the pregnancy," Joseph cut him off.

"We'll likely get married in December. We'd be very pleased if you and Grandma-"

"You know you don't have to do this," Joseph interrupted.

Jotaro's mouth opened, then closed again. "What does that mean?"

"I know you're a responsible young man who feels that getting married is the right thing to do." Joseph extended his hands, "But you don't have to ruin your life."

Jotaro's posture straightened, "I'm not-" He stopped himself, "We've been thinking about getting married for some time. I've been taking a course at her church so we can have the ceremony there."

Joseph's eyes bulged, "You've been what?"

"It used to be that only Catholics could get married in the church, but they now allow interfaith unions, so long as each party learns the tenets-" Jotaro saw that Joseph's face was twisted in anger.

"You're too young for all of this." Joseph swept his arms.

"I know it's not ideal, but the baby won't arrive until July, then it's just one year, and I'll be working. I've got a good relationship with the Davis aquarium-"

"That's how you want to spend your life? Having babies with this Desi Arnaz and working at an aquarium?"

"It's interesting. They have one of three only known specimens of Octavian jellyfish-" Joseph was scowling again. Jotaro stepped forward, crouching slightly, so his face was at Joseph's level. He spoke harshly, "What do you think I should do?"

"Stay out all night. Drink a lot. Enjoy your freedom." The old man tipped his head, "Let me persuade this girl to have an abortion."

Jotaro swallowed. "I won't let you do that."

Joseph thrust his chin out, "I'll do what I like."

"She won't. She's religious," Jotaro said, but already, his gut was churning. Carmen was so kind and generous. At what price would she sell her future happiness? Getting Carlos out of prison? A house for her parents? A college fund for Catalina? "I don't want freedom that involves looking out for no one, and having no one look out for me."

"Jotaro," Joseph murmured, "I know who you are. I want to help you." There was something in his pinched face that Jotaro tried to ignore, but had always been there, grating deep inside.

He spoke slowly, "For the sake of argument, if I let you go through with this, can I rely on you?"

Joseph blinked. "What do you mean?"

"When I reach the age you decide is right, will you introduce me to a Rockerfeller daughter? Will you announce my engagement on the society pages of the New York Times? Will you hold my wedding at your home and invite all your important friends? Will you give a proud toast?" Jotaro spoke in a low, guttural voice, "Can I rely on you?"

Joseph was still at first, then shifted his body, trying to escape his grandson's steady gaze. He shrunk back, but Jotaro matched his movements, closing the space between them. "It's not my fault," Joseph croaked. "It's not my fault what that man did to Holly."

Jotaro stepped even closer, so he was looming over Joseph, "You mean my father?"

He nodded weakly.

Jotaro flexed his knuckles. His chest was tight. "You stayed in the Kujo house. You must have noticed the walls were paper thin." Jotaro sneered. "I heard a lot growing up, and let me assure you she loved it. Begged for it."

Joseph's face contorted, like he'd been punched. "A man like that should have known better than to defile him."

Jotaro crossed his arms, "You mean a man like me?"

Joseph stammered and sputtered, glancing nervously from side to side.

"I'm sorry to make you contemplate the next generation," Jotaro whispered, "I'm sorry you can't get the gook out of your family line."

Joseph kept sputtering, tugging at his collar, searching for an escape. Jotaro stared. Deep in his heart, he wished Joseph would argue. Insist it had all come out wrong. Give some stupid excuse. But he just kept gulping like a fish.

Jotaro had wanted to know his family so badly that he'd trusted Joseph like a little lamb. He grabbed his grandfather by his lapels, then shoved him. Joseph scuttled backwards, but they were right near a retaining wall, and he didn't have far to go. Soon Jotaro was back in his face.

"Fuck you," Jotaro snarled, "Telling me what I can't have." His broad hands reached for Joseph's throat. Purple vines emerged, pulling his wrists away, but Jotaro didn't even need to get out Star Platinum. He snapped them with a flick of his arms.

"Please don't hurt me," Joseph croaked, "Think of your mother."

"The one I helped you save?" Jotaro hit Joseph again and watched his mouth contort. "I'm a man," Jotaro bellowed, his voice deranged. "I deserve this. I deserve a wife and I deserve a daughter." He punched Joseph again, though he could barely see him through the flashes in his vision. Joseph groaned, stumbling. He was weak enough that he couldn't stand on his feet. Jotaro grabbed him by his shoulder and slammed him to the ground, "Stay the fuck away from my family."


If you're looking for a palate cleanser, I wrote a one shot: s/14410921/1/ . Nothing heavy, just Rohan being arrogant and getting a taste of his own medicine.