Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lost. 

Lost and alone in the streets of an unfamiliar city in a country she’d never step foot in before. Standing under a streetlamp for light, the sun long since set. A sitting duck as she tried, frantically, to make sense of her map. The fear and panic were quickly growing, gnawing at her gut, everything inside of her telling her to fight or flee. She tried, in vain, to remind herself that she wasn’t completely alone — and certainly not unarmed, but it did little to calm her nerves. 

While she tried and failed once more to read her map and get a grasp on where she was, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Her head shot up and she inhaled sharply. Nervously, she surveyed her surroundings, and found that every streetlight besides the one she stood under had gone out, bathing her surroundings in darkness. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, deafening, until a voice from behind cut through. 

She turned around at breakneck speed, her Guardian manifesting behind her simultaneously. 

A man stood there before her, still partially obscured by the shadows. Her heart was in her throat as her Guardian made a move towards him. 

He put a hand up, stopping her in her tracks, and he took a step towards her, now fully illuminated by the streetlamp they both stood beneath. She stared at him with wide eyes, feeling stuck in place, like there was a weight on her shoulders keeping her there. 

He was impossibly handsome. Smooth, porcelain skin, all sculpted muscle, blonde hair flowing freely over his shoulders, and eyes as red as fresh blood, roving over her form with a hunger. Her mouth felt like sandpaper. 

“There’s no need for all that,” He purred, voice low and smooth as silk as he gestured toward her Guardian. 

She felt dizzy, off-kilter, confused, terrified. No one had ever seen her before. Her imaginary friend, her protector. 

“You can see her?” She asked, unable to tamp out the curiosity despite it all.

He laughed, and goosebumps prickled on her skin as the sound reached her ears. With his lips pulled back in some monster's imitation of a smile, she could see where his teeth came to two sharp points. 

“But of course.” He replied easily. “I’ve been looking for her, after all. Looking for you.” He took another step towards her, towering over her. “Do you know, you’re the only representation of the Minor Arcana I’ve been able to find? I had reason to believe you possessed the Ace of Cups. Evidently, my suspicions were correct.” His charming voice coupled with his intoxicating, unflinching gaze was lulling her into some strange sense of calm, despite every logical part of her brain screaming at her to fight or flee. The things he said only served to confuse her further, and the need to find out more drowned out every rational thought her brain was desperately screaming at her.

Her mind felt like it was on fire as she tried to put the pieces together, tried to make sense of anything he said to her. Minor arcana… Tarot cards? What did she know about tarot cards?

He was terrifying. He was handsome. He was probably crazy. He was charming. Maybe she was dreaming. What else could possibly explain any of it? Maybe that’s why the longer she stood with him the less she felt like she needed to run screaming. That’s the sort of thing that only made sense in a dream. 

“Who even are you? What is all of this?” She managed to say, the words coming out much sharper than they probably should have, but it earned her another devilish grin regardless. 

“I… am Dio.” He said smoothly, taking another step towards her and nearly closing the gap between them. He looked down on her, red eyes boring into her so deeply it felt like he was looking into her soul. 

“Tell me,” He hummed, and then he disappeared from her vision in a snap. She blinked, and he was gone. 

“What is it that you desire?” His presence was suddenly behind her, sultry voice whispering to her and his body just inches from her own. 

Next, he was on her left. “Riches?” Then her right. “Power?” He was in front of her again. “Admiration?” He asked, head cocked slightly to the side. Then he was gone again. 

She felt his warm breath ghost across the skin of her exposed shoulder, and his hand crept around her neck to clasp, gently, over her throat. He must have been able to feel the way her pulse pounded against her skin, like a dog rattling the bars of its cage. She felt dizzy. She felt high. 

“Loyal and adoring subjects to wait on your every need?” His voice was low and husky in her ear, and her knees felt weak beneath her. “Tell me your deepest desire.” His grip on her throat tightened, fingers digging into flesh while his free hand encircled her waist, pulling her flush against him. 

“Tell me what your heart yearns for.” His voice was like syrup, it radiated in her core. She felt like a woman possessed. So quickly the switch inside her flipped. She wanted him. She would do anything he asked of her, throw herself from the tallest building if he’d so much as implied he wanted her to. 

“Love.” She said breathlessly. “I want true, unconditional love.” Her voice nearly cracked at the end, but the words spilled out on their own. 

Everything after that was a blur. Flashes of skin against skin, a haze of heat and pleasure. She felt like she was outside of herself, like she was watching and feeling it all from behind a wall of glass. But she wanted it so badly, her desire like a wave engulfing her completely. She’d given herself over to him entirely, a slave to his every whim. He occupied her mind in a way she couldn’t explain, and she watched, detached, as she drowned in the all-consuming need to please him. 

Chapter Text

The feeling of his skin was still burning hot on her own. She felt like she’d been branded, and as she walked the busy streets everyone could see that she’d been claimed. She reveled in it. Knowing he’d taken her, the memory of their entanglement imprinted in her mind forever, it made her feel as light as a feather. To be given the chance to hand herself over to someone so powerful, so hypnotizing. To be caressed and kissed and held and handled the way she had been. It was all she’d wanted, really. She knew that for him, it wasn’t love — but she had enough for the both of them. Whatever lust he held for her was enough to sate the burning need inside of her to be desired by someone. 

She felt drunk on it all — drunk on him. She’d laid at his feet while he cradled her face, telling her how important she would be — how eager he was to see his angel succeed, and she’d hung on his every word. She wanted nothing more than to stay by his side forever, on her knees for him and waiting patiently for every command. 

But her hazy fog of blind pleasure was short-lived. He’d sent her away. Not forever — she only had to prove herself. A job just for her, she was sure. One only she could complete. Because she was such a loyal dog, so strong and brave. 

She’d had it all planned, as she walked the streets of Singapore. Her mission, her targets, she knew exactly how she’d put all the pieces together. She knew who she was looking for, what she had to do. She watched as they milled about together –oblivious– and she paused to check her reflection in the glass of a store’s display. She pinched her cheeks, pulled down her dress, and screwed up her face in her best imitation of a sob.

She ran up to them, crocodile tears streaming down her face and wailing.

”You have to help me!” She cried. She knew where to direct her focus— Polnareff, the user of Silver Chariot, was sure to be her most willing victim. But Joseph, Hermit Purple’s user, would be a close second. Two men who were both too easily manipulated by a young woman, though for entirely different reasons.

“A man stole my purse! You have to help me get it back!” She begged, voice cracking, hands clasped together like she was praying for a helping hand.

She watched their reactions closely, and as she analyzed their little group, she’d finally noticed a girl standing alongside them. It nearly made her falter. She was entirely unprepared for a child to be tagging along with them. No matter though. She wouldn’t target the girl, so long as she didn’t get in the way, of course. 

“Ah! A damsel in distress!” Polnareff had declared, swooping in to grab her hand. “Allow me to help, point me in his direction and I will avenge your honor!”

She’d paused her wailing to stop and stare at him, blinking wet, puppy-dog eyes, at him, her lower lip quivering.

”Y-you’d do that for me? Really?” She asked, fluttering long lashes.

”Not a chance.” Someone else interjected. Jotaro — Star Platinum’s user. He’s exactly who she suspected would be the biggest wrench in her plan. No matter, she’d lure away as many of the others as she could and circle back for the rest afterwards.

”Please— My passport is in there, I’ll be stranded! I’m all by myself here, there’s no one else to help me!” She cried out, tears filling in her eyes once again and threatening to spill out. “He can’t have gotten far— you’re big, strong men, please help me!” 

“Go to the cops if you’re that desperate.” Jotaro said gruffly, hands in his pockets and peering out from beneath his hat. She felt him analyzing her, and she pulled on Polnareff’s hand to urge him along with her as she turned to leave.

”It’s all right, Jotaro. We’ll see if we can catch him and if not, she can go to the police. It won’t take long.” Joseph reasoned, and turned to follow her. “Just show us which way he went.” 

Her face split into an elated grin, and she nodded her head, dropping Polnareff’s hand and waving them along with her. 

“He was just over here! Thank you!” She cried, setting off at a near-jog while the two followed behind her.

-

“He went down here, I swear!” She said as she reached the mouth of a long and shadowed alley. She lingered at the start, wringing her hands and sniffling every now and again. “Please, please catch him for me. I don’t know what I’ll do if he gets away.”

”Not to worry, fair maiden. He’ll pay for what he’s done to you.” Polnareff reassured her as he walked into the darkness, Joseph close behind. As they descended further, not quite far enough to see the opposite end yet, she’d stepped behind them, blocking their exit. 

With their backs turned, she let her face fall. Completely neutral, stoic, but cheeks still stained with the tears she’d put on for show. She could hear them muttering to each other, they were sure to hit the dead-end any minute now, and she let her expression melt into a grin. It was all going exactly as she’d planned. 

Her beloved Lord Dio had let her know that her Guardian was actually something called a stand — a manifestation of her soul, a strange power, and he had one too. Just one more thing that they had in common. He’d told her that her stand was called Ace’s Cup. Powerful and sneaky – strong from a distance. Ace’s Cup had materialized beside her then, prepared for attack as soon as the right moment struck. 

”Miss? Are you sure you saw him go this way? I don’t think there’s anything down here.” Joseph had called out cautiously. 

“Oh yes, there’s definitely something down there.” She said, and she couldn’t help the smile that crept into her voice as she watched them blindly make their way down the alley. 

She let Ace tip her chalice over, watching as the water ran down the street, slithering through every crack and imperfection in the sidewalk, towards the two fools. 

She watched them stop as they finally reached the end of the alley. A dead end. Those idiots. They turned around, confusion written plainly on their faces. But ir was already too late for them. Just as they made their move to come back out of the alley, Ace’s watery tendrils seized their ankles. The coils climbed up their legs, their torsos, wrapping around their throats and dampening their clothes as the water from Ace’s chalice seeped into their bodies and drowned them from the inside out. 

They’d both manifested their stands in response, but it was useless. A rapier can’t cut through water, and it certainly can't cut the water out of your lungs. And psychic photography is a little redundant when you’re already drowning. 

Ace stood behind her, chalice still tipped over and flowing freely. She watched them cough, choke, writhe on the ground, gasp for air, claw at their necks, their bodies soaked to the bone and faces pale. Their stands were unusable — she was too far away. She just watched, and laughed as their lips turned blue.

It was all going to plan. Lord Dio would be so proud — surely she’d get a lovely reward for all her hard work. Just thinking about the praise she’d receive was enough to make her heart beat faster. She’d take out the rest of them soon enough, and she’d return to him with their heads on a silver platter. 

The two men had nearly stopped moving at that point, twitching softly at the end of the alleyway, barely enough to see, the shadows paired with the distance obscuring much of her view as they lay on the ground. But she was almost there.

Then she went flying. Airborne for no more than a second before her body hit the ground with a resounding thud. 

Her head throbbed, and her vision was blurry when she’d finally forced her eyes to open. She watched Ace’s chalice clatter to the ground, the water in the cracks of the street disappeared from existence, and she heard coughing, distantly.

Lord Dio would be furious. She’d failed so early on. She was like a kicked puppy, howling for mercy as she managed to find the strength to roll over. 

She saw Jotaro and Star Platinum towering over her, hands still in his pockets and looking at her with the kind of expression you’d give to a child caught stealing from the cookie jar. Her eyes brimmed with tears again — real ones this time, as she watched Star Platinum’s fist rear back in preparation for another strike.

She’d thought of the heavenly pleasure she’d experienced just hours ago — receiving all she’d dreamed of wrapped up with a bow. The stinging, electric sensation of his skin pressed against hers, the unbothered, weightless feeling she’d felt while on her knees before him. At least she’d gotten to experience that, she thought. And if she’s taken out like this, by no more than two punches, she wouldn’t have to go back and face him. Feel the way her heart twisted in her chest at his disappointed look. She’d still be his perfect little angel.

The world went dark.

-

She felt rough stone against her back, muffled voices, and a bright light keeping her from going back to sleep. She’d stirred, and felt indescribable pain in her temples. She scrunched up her face, and groaned, not wanting to face whatever waited for her when she’d opened her eyes. Wanting to go back to sleep and let the pain fade away alongside her consciousness.

But the stone dug hard into her back, the light burned bright against her eyelids, and the pain in her skull was sharp enough to jolt her awake like a shot of espresso.

She opened her eyes, blinking away the fuzziness, and saw several figures hovering around her, backlit by the sun.

Her face contorted into some mixture of disgust and confusion as the dull, muffled sounds of people talking grew louder. 

“Look! She’s finally awake!” A strangely familiar voice called out, and an older man came fully into view. She blinked a few times, and forced herself up on her elbows, letting out another groan. Every movement she made sent white hot pain coursing through every inch of her body, and she resisted the urge to let her head fall against the ground beneath her once again.

”What the fuck.” She croaked, trying to get her bearings. She must have been hit by a car for how badly she felt. “Where the hell am I?” She’d asked, trying desperately to recall what on earth had happened to her.

”You’re in Singapore. Outside a bar. You took quite the beating from Jotaro here, I’m surprised you’re up so quick!” The man said with a chuckle, far too enthusiastic for her foggy brain and pounding headache to bear.

”She’s clearly a strong opponent. I doubt she would have stayed down for long.” Another individual chimed in, and the man directly in front of her extended his hand. She took it, and fought the cry that threatened to claw out of her throat as she stood to her feet. 

As she stood upright again, it was like she passed through an invisible barrier that was keeping her memories at bay as long as she laid flat on her ass. A flood of images flashed through her mind, all clear as day, and she felt dizzy, stumbling into the man next to her, and feeling her stomach turn.

It felt like she was tossed into the deep end of a pool, drowning in the rush of memories.

Heat. Pleasure. Desire. Flesh. Hands. Promises. Orders. Praise. 

All the things she’d watched before from behind a glass wall were laid out in her mind like a movie playing on the big screen, and she felt sickness climbing its way out of her stomach. She pushed away from the man next to her — Joseph, she remembered now— and stumbled to the wall, hands splayed against the cool stone as she dry heaved.

She’d wanted it all — every little thing that monster had given her. She was like clay in his hands, ready to be molded into whatever he desired, just for the flicker of a chance that he’d want her the way she wanted him. She felt disgusting. 

She recalled the fight she had. Not so much of a fight as it was her kicking someone’s ass just to have hers handed to her like it was as easy as taking candy from a baby. The man who’d helped her up was the same one who very nearly died at her hands, and she felt a whole new wave of nausea roll in alongside another flood of crystal clear memories. She retched again, but nothing came up.

”Woah!” Joseph said, moving closer to her and holding up his hands like he was approaching a wild animal. “Are you alright?”

”No!” She snapped over her shoulder, before pressing her forehead against the wall in front of her. She regretted her words almost as soon as they’d left her lips, and she sucked in a breath of air, before pushing herself away from the wall. As she turned to face them, she felt like an animal in the zoo as five men and one little girl stared at her. Like she was an unpredictable beast, ready to lash out at any moment. Maybe she was.

”I’m sorry.” She said quietly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know what’s going on.” The tears were fresh in her eyes once more, from some combination of blinding pain and the horrible, suffocating shame that she felt.

“It’s alright,” Joseph said soothingly. She saw the concern in his face, and she just felt more embarrassed. “It’s not your fault. While you were out, we found that you had a flesh bud in your brain. Jotaro removed it for you, so no hard feelings!”

”What is a flesh bud?” She asked, hand pressed against her forehead like it might stop the rush of information she could hardly begin to process.

”A flesh bud is a clump of Dio’s own cells that he implants in the brain of his victims, allowing him full control over them.” Another man— Avdol— answered for her, and from the mere mention of Dio’s name she felt sick again, felt horrible, felt ashamed. Full control. The words echoed in her mind.

But she thought back to before — and she knew she wasn’t being controlled the whole time. She wanted him, wanted him like she’d been in the desert for days and he was an oasis of water. Even from behind that wall of glass she had enjoyed it. But knowing the things she’d done to get more of it, to please him, she wanted to lock herself away and never see the light of day again. Knowing that she hurt people, people who’d done nothing to wrong her and who’d been nothing but kind to her since then. Knowing that that monster had used her — had exploited her insatiable need to be wanted, took her desperate and damaged heart and used it for twisted things. 

She let her back hit the wall and she slumped against it. Feeling drained, weak, defeated. She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to make it better.

”I’m sorry.” She said again. “I didn’t— I didn’t know. I never would’ve—“ She couldn’t even finish her sentence. 

“Please, madame, not to worry!” A new voice announced, and she’d looked up to find that a new person had appeared beside her. A flash of white hair and smiles and muscles. Her eyes widened, and she’d realized it was yet another person she’d almost killed, Polnareff. It felt like whiplash, his intensely bright personality held up against her wet blanket. “Allow me to escort you to safety, it would be my greatest honor. A delicate flower such as yourself should never have been planted in this foul alley.” 

“Did you need help getting anywhere? If you’re staying nearby, we’d be happy to drop you off.” Joseph interjected, saving her from having to muster up a reply to the man spouting off beside her. Joseph seemed to notice her uncertain expression, and offered her a knowing look. “Don’t worry about Polnareff. He tends to think with the wrong head.”

Jotaro interjected then, the first thing she’d heard him say since she woke up, though it certainly wasn’t anything she’d wanted to hear. “No way.” He said firmly, shooting her a glare that made her blood run cold. “She could still be loyal to Dio. We’re not taking any chances.”

“No fucking way.” She spat. The mention of his name once again made her skin feel hot. Her head throbbed again as pleasure soaked memories pressed against her skull.

”I agree with Jotaro!” The little girl added then, too. “Why would you help some crazy lady passed out in the street? She’s probably trying to mug you!” She watched as the little girl looked at Jotaro expectantly, but his expression didn’t change in the least.

”Calm down. If we’re going by that logic, Kakyoin and Polnareff should never have joined up with us either. Giving her a ride is the least we can do after she got pummeled.” Joseph cast a sidelong glance at Jotaro.

”Well mon cher, it would be my pleasure to be your chariot on the journey back to your castle.” Polnareff inched towards her, and all she could do was blink at him in disbelief. She’d nearly just killed him. What was his angle? Surely he couldn’t be so one track minded.

The discussion went in circles for a while longer, Jotaro adamant that she wouldn’t come along, with the girl, Anne, right there to back him up, while the others were more vocal in her defense, particularly Polnareff. Really all she’d wanted was to go home, to her own apartment, and hide from the world for the rest of her days. But home was thousands of miles and several hours of air travel away. The closest thing she had to go back to right now was a hotel room. 

Dio had found her in Cairo. How he found her, how he knew who she was at all was still a mystery. 

She was on the trip of her dreams. A trip around the globe for a girl who’d wanted nothing more than to learn about the world — immerse herself in other cultures and see what life was like outside of her little bubble. A girl who’d spent her years in university skipping every party, every outing, to clock in at work so she could save up for her dream of traveling. It was ambitious, and maybe a little foolish — a solo trip to several countries when she’d barely been out of her home state before. But she wanted to see the world. A girl who knew that the planet she lived on had more to offer than the heartbreak she’d seen up to that point. But it had all come crashing down so quickly, hadn’t it?

The car ride back to her hotel answered several questions for her, but also raised about a thousand more. 

They’d told her their story. That they were traveling halfway around the world to fight that monster to save Jotaro’s mother and Joseph’s daughter. That Dio had terrorized their family before. The rest of them had given their own reasons, too. It was noble. It was brave. 

She asked why Dio had gone after her, and they explained that stand users were drawn together, so really she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But it still didn’t all make sense. She’d never met another one before all of this. She supposed she didn’t matter. She’d go home and forget about it all, tuck the memory safely away somewhere, never to be unearthed until she was old and grey and it could all be brushed off as some crazy old woman’s ramblings.

But could she do that, really? Leave it all behind? This group of people who hadn’t done anything but help her after she tried to kill them, leave them to fight that monster while she went home unbothered, with little more than a bruise on her cheek and headache.

The familiar architecture of her hotel came into view, snapping her back to reality. The car slowed to a stop out front, and as she collected herself and stepped onto the sidewalk,  she could still feel the burn of his hands against her. She swallowed and said her goodbyes.

”Thank you for the ride, and for saving me. And I’m sorry for attacking you.” She took a breath. “Good luck on your journey, I hope you succeed.”

”It’s no problem, you stay safe out there.” Joseph said warmly, and she smiled.

”Oh, mon amour. It is such sweet sorrow to see you go.” Polnareff reached out of the open window, leaning over Joseph, to grab her hand, cradling it in his like they were a pair of doomed, star-crossed lovers, bidding each other farewell one last time. Her stomach flipped. “I can only hope that fate brings us together once more. Please, don’t forget me.” She offered a meek smile and a nod. 

The others said their respective goodbyes, save for Anne in the backseat, whose arms were crossed and her nose stuck up in the air. She swore she saw the girl stick her tongue out at her, but she chose to ignore it. She turned on her heels, taking a few slow steps, but it was like there was something keeping her from moving any further. There was an undeniable pull, like the wind was calling for her to turn back around and climb back into the car. Her heart beat faster in her chest. She couldn’t stop feeling the sting of his skin against her own. His breath on her ear as he whispered promises to her. That dizzying whirlwind of pleasure.

Something in her world had shifted, undeniable and unshakeable. She’d wanted Dio’s promises to be real. Even behind that glass wall, she craved it. She reveled in the feeling of being desired, wanted so badly for it all to be true. She felt ashamed. She felt disgusted. And then, she felt angry.

She inhaled sharply and clenched her fist, and like her body was moving on its own, she turned right back around and knocked on the window of the car, lip stiff with determination.

She really hadn’t gotten the chance to think better of it, and next the window was rolled back down with Joseph peering at her from inside.

”Let me come with you.” She declared firmly. “I can’t just go home and act like nothing ever happened. Every time I think about it— think about him, I feel sick. I have to at least try and do something to stop him. I know that I can be useful to you, if you just give me the chance.” The rest of her words spilled out quickly, her tongue tripping over her teeth as she tried weakly to plead her case.

”Hell no. We don’t need some bitch slowing us down.” Jotaro coldly announced from the backseat. She clenched her teeth.

”I would be delighted if you came with us!” Polnareff interjected, leaning his body over Joseph’s once again to look at her brightly from the passenger seat. “I would love nothing more than the chance to be your knight in shining armor on this perilous journey.” She felt the faintest glimmer of uncertainty at his words, worried that if his comments continued she wouldn’t be patient enough to navigate them gracefully. 

“She’s clearly a skilled fighter.” Another voice joined the fray — Kakyoin. “She could be a valuable ally to have.”

”Kakyoin is right. Very few of us have long-range stands, and with the way she was able to get the jump on Joseph and Polnareff, it would be foolish to discount the usefulness of her abilities.” Avdol added, and she almost dared to feel hopeful.

”Why don’t you give us a few minutes to discuss things?” Said Joseph, rolling up the window, and she simply nodded, standing nervously outside the vehicle and trying to eavesdrop on their muffled voices. She looked down at her hands and picked nervously at her cuticles, starting to wonder if maybe she’d made the wrong choice, the adrenaline long since worn off and then just feeling like a fool.

But then the middle row window of the SUV rolled down, and Jotaro peered out from beneath his hat, eyes sharp. 

“We’ll let you come with us for now, but if you slow us down or put any of us in danger, you’re out. No argument.” He spoke firmly, and she just nodded, muttering a thank you.

Polnareff let out something in between a whoop and a squeal, and began frantically unhooking his seatbelt. “Avdol, you come switch seats with me so her and I can sit together. Jotaro, you can move to the back seat with Kakyoin and Anne.” 

As if on cue, Anne piped up then, too.

”Hmph! I don’t think you should let her come along just because she has on makeup and a dress! She could be dangerous!” The girl threw her a disapproving look from the backseat. 

“We let you come along, didn’t we? And you don’t have either of those things!” Polnareff argued, climbing into the middle row less than gracefully as Avdol stepped out of the vehicle. Anne opened her mouth to protest again, but she shut it quickly as Jotaro squeezed into the back seat beside her, her cheeks flushing. 

She let out an unexpected laugh as she climbed into the vehicle, feeling lighter than she had before.

Things were different now, and not just for the obvious reasons. Something had changed.

Chapter Text

The drive to their next destination was longer than she’d expected, made even longer by stops on the way. They were headed to a hotel for the night, and why they hadn’t just secured rooms at the hotel they’d literally just left was a mystery to her. But she tried to reason that there were things she didn’t know yet, and quite frankly, she was too exhausted to question it further.

The ride felt twice as long, too, as it was narrated by none other than the Frenchman sitting beside her the entire way. He didn’t let silence fall for more than a few seconds at a time, despite her less than enthusiastic responses to everything he threw at her. It started to grate. 

She wondered what exactly was going on in his head — so distracted by the prospect of getting some that he seemed utterly unbothered that she had very nearly taken his life just hours before, or the fact that he didn’t know her in the slightest. It irritated her all the more that every cheesy pick up line made her stupid, fickle heart beat faster, until her logical brain caught up to it all and tried desperately to remind her that she was more than just what someone wanted from her. 

He never stopped, though. So she just grit her teeth and smiled.

The vehicle, finally, slowed to a stop outside of a very large, very nice hotel. She wondered then, if maybe her old lodgings were just too second class for the rest of the group to stay in. She stared for a moment until she was urged out of the car by a choir of voices.

The inside of the hotel was just as nice as she’d expected. Sleek and modern. 

They all milled about the front desk while Joseph spoke with the receptionist.

”I’m terribly sorry, sir. But we tend to be full at this time of year. We no longer have any large suites available. May I suggest our double rooms?” The receptionist had offered apologetically. 

“I guess we’re stuck.” Joseph said, handing over payment to the woman behind the desk. “Now, for the rooms… Uh, Avdol and I will share a room with each other.”

”It makes sense for Jotaro and I to share a room. Since we’re both students.” Kakyoin added, gesturing to the two of them. “Does that help, Joseph?” 

“Then the last room goes to Polnareff, and…” Avdol trailed off, looking at her, Anne, and the Frenchman. 

She weighed her options in the brief beat of silence. Anne clearly wasn’t her biggest fan, but she figured it made the most sense for the two of them to share.

”Anne and I could share, since we’re both girls.” She offered, casting a glance to the young girl, whose face immediately twisted with disgust.

”Ew! I don’t want to share a room with her!” Anne spat back, crossing her arms, and she found herself struggling not to be offended. 

“Well I’d be happy to!” Polnareff cut in, sticking his tongue out at Anne like a child before directing his attention back to her. “Mademoiselle, it would be my pleasure to spend the night beside you.” She could only blink at him.

”Anne, what’s the issue? It makes the most sense for the two young ladies to share a room.” Joseph tried to reason, but Anne just hmphed in response.

”I’m not sharing with anyone! I’ll go find my own place to stay!” Anne argued stubbornly, and she felt her options dwindling.

She let out a small sigh before she spoke. “It’s alright. Let Anne have her own room, and I can share with Polnareff.” Her words were enough to pull Polnareff out of his argument with Anne as Joseph turned back to the receptionist. 

“What a blessed day!” Polnareff announced. “I can only hope that every other night of our journey is spent together as well.” He stepped closer to her, turning his back to Anne who was still blowing raspberries in his direction. “You know, if you have a bad dream, you can climb into my bed. I won’t hold it against you.” Polnareff said, voice dropping. She wondered how he got the confidence to keep making advances at her when all she really did was stare at him blankly. “Allow me to lead the way, mon cher!” He said enthusiastically, stepping off towards the elevator.

Joseph took the opportunity to step beside her, dropping a key into her hand. “Don’t worry, Polnareff is all bark and no bite. If he gets on your nerves too bad, Avdol and I are just upstairs.” She smiled at him.

”Thanks, Mr. Joestar. I’m sure I can handle him.” She told him, but she wasn’t entirely confident in her words. A whole night of that? She prayed her patience wouldn’t wear thin too quickly. 

-

Her and Polnareff stepped out of the elevator and said their goodbyes to Avdol and Joseph who remained inside, the rest of their group having gotten out on floors below. She stole a quick glance at the signs on the wall before taking a left. She rotated the key over in her hand, turning a corner before she spotted the corresponding room. Polnareff still spouted off beside her, but she was already getting a little better at drowning him out. 

She fit the key into the doorknob and turned it, the door swinging open to reveal a lovely room. Far nicer than anywhere she’d stayed before. It was gorgeous, sleek and modern, matching the architecture of the rest of the building. Intricate rug on the floor, blindingly white bedsheets, a desk in the corner covered by complimentary water, coffee, and tea. By all accounts it was an excellent room. Well out of her budget under any normal circumstances.

But there was one glaring problem, and it sat perfectly in the center of the room, completely unaware of the grief it caused her.

One king sized bed, all alone, all by itself.

She pulled the door shut before Polnareff could get a chance to see inside. She heaved a sigh and scrunched her eyes shut, hand still lingering on the doorknob. She knew she didn’t have another option, besides forcing herself into Anne’s room. The hotel was booked.

It wasn’t even that she thought Polnareff would try something, not really anyways. His constant advances were tiring, sure, but it didn’t make her feel like he was going to pull anything serious. But the idea of sleeping in bed beside another man, while her pleasure-filled memories were still so fresh in her mind, made her stomach churn. 

“What’s the matter?” Polnareff asked from behind her, and she heaved another sigh. She turned the key in the lock again, defeated, and let the door open to reveal the scene to Polnareff. She stared blankly ahead into the empty room, and she could feel his eyes on her back before he slid past her and walked inside. 

He collapsed onto the plush mattress, and she crept in behind him. He seemed to take note of her solemn expression, and piped up without missing a beat. 

“It’s a king size bed! Plenty of room for two. I’m happy to sleep on the edge,” He paused, and smirked at her. “Though I’m sure we’ll be close by the time we actually fall asleep.”

She shook her head and kicked off her boots by the door, lingering in her spot and unwilling to venture further. The day had already been so long. She didn’t want to worry about the feeling of a warm body beside her, didn’t want her traitorous heart calling out to be held by him, by anyone. She didn’t want to think about the way Dio’s touch was burned onto her forever, feeling the scald of his fingertips every time her thoughts drifted too far. 

”Ah, madame, don’t look so blue! The universe intended for things to work out this way! I’ll be able to protect you better if we’re cuddled up close. If you have a nightmare, I’ll be right there beside you.” 

“I’m going to the bathroom.” She said flatly, and made a beeline. She shut the door and locked it behind her, sagging against the sink with a deep breath.

She turned on the sink and let it run ice cold, splashing her face with the frigid water and staring at herself in the mirror as droplets formed on her chin. Her mascara had smeared, streaking down her face, and she felt so tired. She felt like she could still feel his body pressed against her, see his reflection in the mirror behind her. She scrubbed her face with the hand soap on the sink, uncaring of the way it would probably make her break out, and only briefly did the realization cross her mind that all of her things were still at her old hotel.

She cleaned the makeup from her face and scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin started to sting, like somehow it would be able to wash away the past several days. She wanted to clean off whatever evidence there might have been that she’d been in Dio’s bed, she felt like there was writing on her face telling everyone what she’d done. She was so embarrassed that she’d wanted him so badly, so embarrassed by her desperation and how easily she was won over. Surely she couldn’t have been the only one, he was so intoxicating, so addictive. 

When soap was rinsed off and her face was dry, she’d looked at her reflection in the mirror, skin red and irritated and eyes glassy. She twisted up her face and let out a sound of disgust before she left the bathroom, unable to look at herself any longer. 

The room was darker when she stepped back into it, the curtains drawn, and the light of the television on the wall illuminated Polnareff’s form in the bed, already under the covers and fully reclined. When he noticed her reappearance, he sat up immediately, patting the empty space beside him. “Oh, I was waiting for you! It was getting so lonely out here by myself.” He leaned back against the pillows, still waiting for her to come and join him. “I kept the bed warm for you.” 

“Thanks.” She murmured, but didn’t make any move to get closer to him. She was tired. She wanted so badly to collapse into bed, but the heat of his body beside her would keep her up for sure. Even if she’d slept with half of her body dangling off the edge, he would still be too close. 

“Aren’t you going to climb in?” We’ve got a big day tomorrow, we should relax while we still can. Besides, who knows how much later we’ll be up once we’re together in here.” His tone never faltered, still as suggestive and flirty as the very first comment he’d made to her. It made her angry, the way he kept going even when she’d given him nothing in the way of encouragement. She wasn’t some stupid slut who’d give it up for the first guy who’d made an advance on her.

But… She was, wasn’t she? That’s exactly what she’d done for Dio. She’d given it all up to him so easily. Polnareff couldn’t have even known about that though, could he? But maybe he did. Maybe he knew exactly what she was — ready to lay it all out for any man who’d so much as glanced in her direction. She couldn’t even fool herself into believing that Dio had been the first time she’d done it either. She knew there were countless times in the past, too. Maybe that’s why she’d let Dio take her so easily, that’s just the way she’d always been. 

”Can you give it a rest?” She snapped, fist clenched by her sides. Once again, it didn’t deter him.

”Well, I doubt we’ll be getting much rest to—“

She’d cut him off before he had the chance to finish. 

“I’m not kidding, you need to lay off! I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, or what perverted version of me exists in your head but I’m not fucking interested! I haven’t responded to your advances even once! I don’t know what on earth I’m doing to make you think I’ll give it up that easily but please, god, tell me and I’ll stop! I don’t know where your head is that you keep pushing despite it all, but hey, I guess I have to give you credit for your perseverance, huh?” She let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “I felt bad about the things I did to you, and to Mr. Joestar —I still do, but if this is what I have to deal with to come along with you all, I’ll take my fucking chances with Dio on my own.”

His expression had turned into that of a kicked puppy, looking at her with his lips parted and brows knit together. She didn’t let it stop her though, despite the immediate surge of guilt she felt, she just turned on her heels and swept out of the door, not bothering to grab her shoes or the room key. 

-

Polnareff had just sat there after her outburst, stunned into silence and feeling like he’d been slapped. He replayed her words over and over. He hadn’t meant it like that — well, he had, but he didn’t mean to hurt her. He didn’t know what he meant to do.

She was so beautiful, surely he wasn’t the first man to make a fool of himself in pursuit of her hand. 

When she’d approached them all on the streets he was ready to follow her wherever she wanted, would’ve kicked the ass of a hundred purse thieves if it meant the chance to win her affection. Maybe he thought if he kept trying with her she’d find it endearing, or maybe she’d pity him enough to give him a chance.

But now he just felt terrible. 

Finally, his mind kicked into gear once again, and he’d leapt up from the bed. He’d nearly fallen over trying to pull his boots back on, balancing against the wall as he slipped his feet back into them and grabbed the hotel key from where she’d dropped it on the desk.

He was into the hallway by the time he’d heard the bell of the elevator ding, and he’d taken a sharp turn around the corner just in time to see the doors close with her inside. He sighed, changing course and heading towards the stairs instead, but he didn’t feel the same rush he had a moment ago.

He’d gone and screwed things up again — acted like a clown in front of a beautiful woman because he didn’t know how else to do things. Nine flights of stairs even at a jog was more than enough to think about all the stupid things he’d said to her, and by the time he’d reached the lobby and saw her with her head in her hands, he realized he had no idea what he what he thought he was doing.

She’d made it clear, in no uncertain terms, exactly how she’d felt about things. So how had he deluded himself into thinking he was someone she’d want to see after all of it? It’s not like she was in any great danger in the middle of a hotel lobby, so he couldn’t even justify that his presence was in the name of keeping her safe.

Nine flights was a hell of a lot to walk back up, so as he waited for the elevator he could only hope she wouldn’t get a wild hair to look over her shoulder and see him standing there with his foot in his mouth. 

-

He’d noticed the drink cans sitting on top of the fridge as soon as he’d returned to the room. He’d tossed the room key onto the bedside table all the same, taking a look around the room to find whatever else might have been out of place.

He’d walked to the balcony, drawing the curtains to let the light flood back in, and heaved a deep sigh.

”Dammit, I should’ve guessed. Couldn’t you guys at least have given us a chance to rest? Persistent bastards.” He turned his back to the balcony doors again. “Come out!”

Then, the fridge opened on its own, and a man crept out, crawling on all fours like some kind of beast. 

“That’s some insanely intense bloodlust you’ve got there. Do me a favor and tell me who you are. My name’s Polnareff, so you’ll know who sent you to hell.” 

-

She’d gone back to the hotel lobby after she’d stormed out of her and Polnareff’s room. She wasn’t sure how long they’d let her linger there, she looked a mess. Bare feet, bare faced, and still in the same filthy clothes she’d had on all day. 

She collapsed on a cushioned chair in the hotel lobby, holding her head in her hands and trying to ignore the stares of hotel staff and patrons alike. She had to apologize, she knew that already. But she wasn’t ready to face him again yet. But it’s not like she could barge into Anne’s room and demand the little girl share with her, and she certainly couldn’t go running to Mr. Joestar when she was the one who’d screwed things up for no good reason.

She could run away. She could sit there all night until they came down tomorrow morning to check out, or at least until hotel staff asked her to leave. She could get over herself and apologize to Polnareff for throwing a tantrum. She could do nothing, and hope that if she stayed still for long enough she’d disappear from existence entirely.

But really, only one of those options was realistic. And it was the one she’d wanted to choose the very least. 

She’d finally lifted her head from her hands, and decided to allow herself five more minutes before she went back to face him. She was such an idiot. If anything, she should’ve been flattered, that he was so eager to get with her he could forget about the fact that she nearly killed him in a matter of minutes. Isn’t that what she wanted? Someone to want her? But she was so fragile and testy she’d acted like he’d kicked her dog or something. 

As she sat, wallowing, she overheard someone at the front desk telling another employee to take something to room 912. Wasn’t that her room? Polnareff’s room? She twisted around to look at the front desk where she saw a man handing off a first aid kit. Was that for Polnareff? What could possibly have happened in the five minutes she’d been gone?

She didn’t let herself panic. Maybe he’d tripped over her shoes running to tell Joseph to leave the crazy bitch at the hotel when they set out tomorrow. It’s not like he was in any real danger alone in a hotel room. Besides, if someone was going to attack, why wait until she was gone when they could’ve gotten an easy two-for-one? She couldn’t justify running back upstairs to save him just because she’d seen someone taking a first aid kit to his room. Maybe he still had lingering injuries from the things she put him through that morning. She was doubly sure by then that she was the last person he’d want to see. 

Everything was probably fine. If she milled about in the lobby long enough, reading shitty tabloid magazines and continuing to eavesdrop on everything going on around her, maybe when she went back up Polnareff would already be asleep, and she wouldn’t have to really face him until tomorrow. She’d curl up on the floor or sleep in the chair at the desk. 

Just as she’d resolved to waste time by herself down there, she heard her name called. She turned back around to see Jotaro and Kakyoin headed towards her.

”Why the hell aren’t you with Polnareff?” Jotaro demanded, and she faltered.

”I was just coming out for some air.” She said, unconvincingly. 

“Right.” He said sarcastically. “Well, while you were gone, Polnareff encountered an enemy stand user. We’re all meeting up in the old man’s room. Let’s go.”

”Where’s Anne?” She asked, suddenly growing increasingly concerned about the girls safety.

”We just checked on her. She’s still in her room.” Kakyoin answered. “It’s safer for her if she’s not with us, but it’s safer for you if you are.” 

She’d just nodded then, standing from her seat to join them as they made their way to Avdol and Joseph’s room. She tried to ignore the way Jotaro had very obviously noticed her lack of shoes given her earlier excuse for having left Polnareff alone.

The elevator ride was painfully silent, which gave her even more time to spiral into guilty thoughts. Never mind the fact that she’d gone off at him, but knowing she’d left him alone to be immediately ambushed by an enemy made her feel like the worst girl in the world. She’d say she was sorry a hundred times when she saw him again, if Jotaro didn’t immediately demand that they leave her behind for her crimes.

When they reached their destination, Kakyoin and Jotaro relayed to the others what they’d told her about Anne, and Joseph questioned why Polnareff hadn’t joined them yet. But thankfully, he didn’t question why she wasn’t with him. 

As the minutes ticked on and Polnareff still hadn’t shown, she started to feel a little bit like she was going to throw up. What if she’d gotten him killed because she threw a fit and left him alone with an enemy? God, she was so stupid.

Polnareff came into the room a beat later, hair in disarray and all but drenched in blood. Her eyes widened, and she resisted the urge to run to him and wail her apologies. The rest of the group seemed less than concerned about the state he was in, though.

”Ah, Polnareff, you’re finally here.” Avdol announced as Polnareff limped into the room.

”You’re not terribly punctual, and you look like hell. Okay, lets get right to it. Let’s figure out what our strategy will be if Soul Sacrifice attacks.” Joseph moved on quickly, uncaring of Polnareff’s state as the Frenchman slumped against the wall. “Polnareff, pay attention!” 

”You’re… joking, right?” Polnareff croaked as he slid down the wall, collapsing onto the ground with a harrowed look in his eyes.

Chapter Text

Almost as soon as Polnareff had defeated the stand user and returned to them he was arrested on suspicion of murder. She was very nearly arrested right alongside him, but for once luck was on her side, and there were enough witnesses to corroborate that she’d been in the lobby when the deaths actually occurred. But still, there was enough suspicion against her to be taken down to the police station with him.

She’d stayed silent during her questioning, Joseph had managed to let her know before she was brought to the station that he’d get both her and Polnareff out — something about the Speedwagon Foundation and lawyers. So she just kept her mouth shut.

They’d told her she wasn’t being charged with anything, but with the way they pushed for answers she was sure they were hoping she’d slip up somewhere and confess. But there truly was nothing for her to confess even if she’d wanted to, so in the long stretches of time they left her alone as they reworked their strategy or reviewed evidence, she had plenty of time to think.

She thought about Polnareff, mainly, but also about how she’d only been on this journey for a few short days and already so much had happened. She wondered if she’d ever get any kind of break. She did, briefly, miss the time when her trip abroad was just that — a trip. A vacation. When she was still oblivious and innocent and she didn’t have to worry about stands or vampires or enemies. It’s not that she regretted her decision —even though she regretted so much that came before it— but she did wonder what her life would be like when it was all over. If she were to even make it that far.

Then her mind would drift back to Polnareff, and she’d sit there mentally kicking herself for wailing at him like a baby who had their favorite toy taken away. She felt stupid — and she knew that once they released her from that interrogation room she’d have to face him. There was no creeping into the hotel room after he’d fallen asleep and waiting to deal with it tomorrow anymore. She would have to buck up and say that she was sorry. 

She worked out a script in her head in the many hours she sat at the station. First she would say, ‘I’m sorry for yelling at you Polnareff.’ Then she would say, ‘I’m working through a lot of stuff right now, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.’ Next she’d say, ‘Some of your pickup lines are actually a little bit funny. But I’m sorry again, I promise it won’t happen twice.’ And then she’d be done, and if things went exactly how she hoped, Polnareff would accept her apology and they’d move on like nothing ever happened. 

If things went wrong, well, she assumed that as soon as they reunited with the rest of the group, Polnareff would say, ‘Jotaro, Mr. Joestar, she may not be an enemy anymore, but she’s definitely insane, and probably a slut, and I think she’s going to keep causing problems for us, so we should leave her here and forget we ever met her.’ And then maybe Star Platinum would punch her again. 

She hoped that the second scenario wouldn’t happen. But she could never be too sure.

She did feel bad about the things she said to him. She should have been excited about the prospect of someone maybe, actually, wanting her. But her wounds —if they could even be called that— were still too fresh. She still felt like she needed to take a hundred showers to wash away the feeling of a murderous vampire's touch on her skin. To wash away the evidence of how easy she was. Maybe that’s all she’d needed to do all along — wash it all away and Polnareff would’ve stopped seeing her as something ripe for the picking.

The door opened then, and she prepared for another round of questioning, but the cop she’d become so familiar with at that point had only told her she was free to go, and held open the door as she walked out.

She was escorted back to the front of the station, with expectations that she’d likely be waiting awhile for them to finish up with Polnareff. But by the time she reached the waiting room, she’d spotted his white hair almost immediately. She was, briefly, concerned that she hadn’t had enough time to prepare what she was going to say to him. But she shook it off. She’d wing it if she had to. 

Then she looked a little closer, and saw his bright smile and animated movements, and as her gaze drifted further, she saw the beautiful woman sitting beside him. Every thought she’d had about giving him an apology died right then and there, and she felt angry all over again.

She stormed up to him, face twisted in disgust, and all but shouted at him.

”Are you ready to go?” She snapped, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently. He jumped like a bomb had gone off next to him. 

“Yes! Just a moment, I’m coming.” He scrambled, turning back to the woman beside him. She just rolled her eyes and marched out the front door, uninterested in hearing whatever apology or explanation he had for the stranger.

When she stepped outside, she felt nauseous again, and her eyes started to sting. It just made her more angry. What the fuck was wrong with her? She’d yelled at him for hitting on her and now she was going to cry that he was hitting on someone else? Even she couldn’t keep up with the mixed signals she was giving. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands and let out a groan.

Polnareff came out a beat later, and then it was her turn to jump.

”I was just making conversation with the person sitting next to me— I didn’t know how long it was going to take them to release you.” He told her as soon as he stepped out of the door. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” She scoffed. “I wasn’t the one under arrest for murder. I doubt they would have kept me that long.”  She spat back, before she could think better of it. “Let’s go.” She said, and started walking without giving him a chance to respond. She couldn’t bring herself to look back at him, and she couldn’t bear the thought of him looking at her.

The walk back to the hotel was painfully silent. She’d walked ahead of him the entire way, arms crossed and chewing on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying something stupid again. He didn’t seem to want to break the silence either, and she was sure he was regretting not just leaving her at the station.

Her anger had simmered down by that point, at least towards him. But she still had too much pride to try to find the words to explain herself, or say she was sorry. So she just let the silence drone on, until they met back up with the others.

By some miracle, Polnareff hadn’t ratted her out for being a miserable wretch as soon as they’d all regrouped. Maybe he just didn’t get the chance, as Jotaro had wasted little time to let them know about the information he’d received.

While her and Polnareff were temporarily locked up, Jotaro had gotten wrapped up in a fight with another stand user — Yellow Temperance, and the user had revealed valuable information about the man Polnareff was looking for. That bombshell seemed to have been enough to draw Polnareff’s attention away from her entirely. 

The train ride was less tense than she’d expected, but she’d remained almost entirely mute since she left the police station with Polnareff. She’d sat in a window seat on the train, and spent nearly the whole ride with her head against the glass and watching the scenery go by.

Polnareff had started talking about the man with two right hands again, and she was barely listening. It’s not like she would’ve had anything to add to the conversation anyways, and she didn’t trust herself not to get worked up over nothing again. But then Polnareff had brought up Anne, and that was finally enough to make her start paying attention. 

At the mention of the little girl, she’d even dared to look away from the window, towards Polnareff, and when she glanced in his direction she found that he was already looking at her. They both looked away immediately, but it did bring a fresh feeling of worry that maybe he’d remember how insane she’d been and decide to bring it up to the others. But he didn’t say anything.

”She was hanging around Singapore station right before our train departed., but…” Joseph had said then, about the girl.

”She vanished. Remember, she came to Singapore to meet her father. I’m sure she found him.” Avdol added, and she felt another wave of concern about the little girl. Logically, she knew that Anne would be safer if she wasn’t running with a group of people constantly being targeted, but she still feared that if the girl didn’t meet up with her father soon she’d end up even worse off.

“Yeah? Well that story about her meeting up with her dad sounded fishy to me. I bet she’s a runaway.” Polnareff said, and turned to Jotaro. “But, it is a bit lonely without that rugrat. Right, Jojo?”

-

Reaching India had nearly made her feel like she was going to pass out from how busy it was. With the way Avdol had spoken about it, she was expecting something completely different, and she tried not to get overwhelmed by all the people talking at her and yelling at her and touching her. She was almost certain one of them was going to get into a fight before they left the country, and knowing how short her fuse had become, she couldn’t rule out the idea that it might be her.

Avdol seemed just as excited as he had been before they arrived, and she started to feel like maybe she was too quick to judge. This is what she’d wanted, right? To see the world and all its differences. But it was a stark change from what she’d seen up to that point.

They’d made their way out of the worst of the crowds eventually, and stopped for lunch at a nice restaurant. Avdol had ordered them all drinks, and she sat sipping hers quietly while the rest of them talked amongst themselves. She appreciated the feeling of being able to breathe again.

“It’s a hell of a lot of culture shock though. Guess I’ll like it once I get used to it, huh?” Polnareff had said, and it drew her attention to him again. “Well, I guess people adapt to their surroundings eventually.” He stood up from his seat, lifting his bag over his shoulder as he asked a waiter for the restroom. 

”Polnareff!” Joseph called as the man in question walked away, which earned a lazy glance over his shoulder. “Aren’t you going to order first?”

”Pick for me.” Polnareff responded easily. “It’d better be something amazing! Something gorgeous and sophisticated, that suits a Frenchman such as moi.”

Joseph sat with his mouth agape as Polnareff walked away, and as she watched the Frenchman go, she started to wonder if maybe he really was just… like that. 

“Which means it doesn’t matter, he’ll eat anything.” Kakyoin added, and Joseph finally shut his mouth. She nearly laughed then. It seemed like an awfully roundabout way of admitting that he probably didn’t understand the menu.

“He’s always like this then, huh?” She dared to speak then, finally, and her question was met with murmurs of confirmation.

”Day and night.” Joseph said. “I don’t know where he gets the energy for it.” 

That did make her smile for a moment, before she was hit with another pang of guilt. She had to get over herself. Polnareff was nice, just eccentric. Maybe a little bit self centered. And she was just a horrible girl who couldn’t get out of her own head long enough to see that not everything was always about her.

She didn’t have long to spiral, for once, as the waiter returned to take everyone’s order. Kakyoin had put in Polnareff’s, and as soon as the waiter stepped away again, there was commotion from the direction of the bathroom. Her head snapped up, immediately concerned, but the others seemed less bothered by it.

”Sounds like Polnareff’s having bathroom troubles again.” Joseph muttered, and she resisted the urge to ask for more information, unsure if it would be a question she really wanted the answer to.

Polnareff spent long enough in the bathroom that the food had come out before he did. She was then suddenly grateful that she hadn’t pressed for more information on his previous restroom escapades. The group ate and chatted like normal, unconcerned with Polnareff’s extended absence, so she chose to ignore it as well.

Until the Frenchman came barreling back into the dining room and shouting about a stand user, loud enough to draw the attention of nearly everyone else in the establishment. He didn’t give any of them a chance to respond before he was out the front door. 

“Wait here.” Joseph had told her as the rest of them got up from the table. She opened her mouth to protest, but they were out the door behind Polnareff before she was able to get the words out. She accepted the order she was given with a sigh, and recognized that whatever was going on with Polnareff probably wouldn’t have been helped by her presence, so she just watched from the window, trying to put together what was happening with the limited information she had. 

As she looked on from inside, she watched as Polnareff and Avdol got wrapped up in a heated exchange, and as she saw Avdol’s fist pull back in response, she decided it wasn’t something she was willing to watch from a distance any longer. She scrambled to pull out cash to throw on the table, praying it would be enough to cover everyone’s bill before she darted outside to join the rest.

She’d arrived just in time to catch the tail end of Polnareff and Avdol’s argument, watching in shock as Polnareff spat on the ground in their direction before walking away. 

She watched in some strange mix of emotions as Polnareff left, not even sparing a glance over his shoulder. She was speechless. Even though she’d missed whatever had transpired between him and Avdol, she suddenly felt the crushing weight of guilt and regret that her little outburst had been his primary motivation for leaving them all behind. 

-

In the hours after Polnareff departed, the remaining five of them checked in at yet another hotel, the tension in the air still palpable as everyone sat down for dinner. Things had been unnervingly quiet, with Polnareff’s absence leaving a hole that was easily felt. 

She pushed around the food that sat untouched on her plate, her already weak appetite all but gone after the frenchman left them. She felt like she was hiding this massive secret, and it sat in her stomach like a weight. She felt like she should tell the others what she’d done, the things she’d said to him. But she couldn’t decide if her little fit really did have anything to do with it, or if she was once again making everything all about herself. 

Regardless, she wasn’t sure if she’d even be able to form her mouth into the words to tell the others what she’d said to him. 

“So he really didn’t come back after all.” Joseph said then, breaking the silence and finally drawing her attention from the food quickly growing cold on her plate. She felt her stomach flip.

”He may come around yet,” She said, trying to muster some kind of encouragement for the others just as much as herself. “Grief is a hell of a thing to work through.”

”We’ll see.” Avdol said, in such a way that made her feel like maybe she should have just kept quiet. She hadn’t seen what went down between the two of them, not really. So who was she to talk? If anything, she’d likely played a much larger role in the Frenchman’s decision to leave than anything Avdol had said in their dispute that morning.

The gloom weighed heavily over all of them, almost suffocating. And she had no idea where to even begin to try and fix things, or if it was worth it for her to try at all.

-

He was alone again. Burned every bridge and now he sat by himself in a shitty little motel room, staring out the filthy window and wondering if he should have done things differently.

But this is the way things always went, didn’t they? Pushing everyone away in pursuit of his greater goal. But it was different this time, that finish line that had once seemed so unattainable was finally within view. He would finally, finally, be able to avenge his sister, make that sick man pay for what he’d done.

He hadn’t wanted to leave things like that. But if they were going to stand in the way of his ultimate goal he had no choice but to strike out on his own. That had always been his plan from the very beginning. Maybe when it was all over, when that monster was dead in the ground and he finally felt like he’d done right by Sherry, he could go back to them. But he couldn’t apologize for something that needed to happen.

He did feel the stinging regret of leaving her without the chance to talk, to explain himself, to apologize. She hadn’t even seen his fight with Avdol, just his back as he walked away. Maybe that’s what made it so much easier, that he was already on his way out without having to even see her face. He didn’t want to know how she looked at him as she left, or what she thought of him. She probably felt relieved. She probably had a smile on her face as he disappeared into the crowds. But he’d still felt the burning desire to talk to her again, wanted to be given the chance to get on her good side again, if he ever had been at all. It was probably foolish. But he didn’t want her to keep believing that all he’d wanted was surface level. He would have fallen at her feet if she’d told him to.

He’d made things even worse at the police station, too. It was already his fault that she’d been carted down there to begin with. He’d planned to apologize to her then, beg and grovel for her forgiveness. But by the time she’d been released it was already too late — she’d seen him talking to that woman, and no matter how he tried to spin it, it certainly wasn’t a mark in his favor.

But none of that mattered now. He had bigger things to worry about than his selfish feelings. The opportunity he’d once butchered so disastrously was within his reach once again, and he’d be damned if he fucked it up a second time. He would avenge his beloved sister even if he died in the process, and anything beyond that didn’t matter anymore.

Chapter Text

After dinner, Avdol disappeared just as Polnareff had, only he left without saying a word. It was easy to figure out where he’d gone. Even though she hadn’t been present for much of their dispute, she could put the pieces together quickly enough. He’d gone to look for Polnareff. There was some brief discussion, and they’d all decided to set out and look for him in the city. It was a monumental task for how populated the area was, but it was worth it to at least try. She’d been chosen to stay behind and wait at the hotel on the off chance that either of the men showed back up at any point. 

She waited in the lobby, and she noted that she seemed to be spending an awful lot of time in hotel lobbies these days. She sat by the window and looked out onto the street at everyone passing by with a minuscule hope that maybe they’d both show up unscathed. But it was hard to sit still when she was so anxious. She’d wanted to be out there, searching with the others.

She’d moved seats at least four times in the short window of time that she’d been alone. She’d moved around every magazine sitting on the table. She’d walked outside and stood on the front steps. She kept trying to remind herself that all she could really do was wait, but every time she stayed stationary for more than a few minutes her thoughts would drift.

She kept hearing the things she said to Polnareff that night play over and over again in her head, a repeating soundtrack that wouldn’t shut off. Occasionally she’d feel the ghost of Dio’s hands stinging against her flesh. And then all she could do was sit there and think about how badly she regretted the way everything had gone until she forced herself to stand up and move around again. 

That wasn’t even to mention the growing dread that she felt at the prospect of something having happened to either of the men. Maybe they’d gotten in a fight with an enemy stand user. Maybe they’d gotten in a fight with each other. Maybe a million other horrible things had happened in the time that they’d been gone and she’d be none the wiser until someone returned to relay it to her. She knew logically that things could have unfolded this way with or without her presence, but with every minute that ticked by she found herself feeling more and more like maybe she never should have come along at all, and maybe things still would have been chugging along as smoothly as they could be given the circumstances. 

It felt like it had been forever since they’d left her at the hotel, each moment dragging on and on.

Everything had become so strange. She was anxious to the point of nausea over two men she’d known less than a week. But she already felt so attached to them, even with her spat with Polnareff. Maybe even more so because of it. Maybe that unshakeable bond had grown so quickly because she’d finally found people who truly understood her, who saw her in a way that no one ever had before. Maybe that’s why she was causing so much trouble. Because she didn’t know how else to react to people really, truly seeing her. She was like a neglected dog who, even in the hands of those who cared, didn’t know what to do other than lash out.

-

“What will you do for me, pet?” He’d asked her, and she felt like she was swimming in the pools of his eyes.

”Anything.” She answered easily, drunk on the feeling of him.

”Walk to the ends of the earth? Throw yourself from the tallest building? Cut out the hearts of a thousand men?” His fingers stroked gently up her leg.

“Yes, my lord. Whatever you ask of me, so it shall be.” She shuddered at the feeling of his hands against her, and his hand clamped down hard on the soft flesh of her thigh in response. His nails dug into her skin, almost painful, and all she could do was stare at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky.

She watched as his lips pulled back into a smile, showing the sharp points of his teeth, and all she could think was how badly she wanted him to sink them into her. 

His grip on her thigh released then, leaving red marks where his fingertips had been, as his hands traveled further up her exposed body, pausing occasionally to squeeze and pinch. She writhed underneath him, feeling dizzy from the pleasure, hands fisting the sheets as she yearned for more of him.

“Such a loyal dog,” He’d told her, and the praise sent a jolt straight to her core. She wanted all of him, or at least all that he would give her. She was like a drunken fool, willing to do anything to get her fix. She wanted it to last forever. Wanted to stay in his bed and underneath his fingertips for the rest of her days. She didn’t think she could live without it now that she’d tasted it.

-

The feeling of a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her, pulled her from her dream.

”Wake up,” Joseph said gently, and released her from his grip when she started to stir. She opened her eyes with a groan, finding herself on the plush loveseat in the hotel, all but drooling she was so knocked out. She rubbed her eyes and sat up fully then, gathering her bearings as she finally started to recall exactly where she was.

Her eyes darted up to Joseph then, still on the brink of sleep but quickly waking up as she was pulled harshly back to reality.

Avdol. She was waiting for Avdol. They’d all gone out to look for him, and she was at the hotel in case he came back.

”Where is he? Avdol?” She asked frantically, jumping up from her seat and mentally kicking herself for having fallen asleep when the stakes were so high. She looked over the group that was standing around her then. Joseph. Jotaro. Kakyoin. Polnareff. Wait, Polnareff? And beside him was a young woman. But no Avdol. Her gaze shifted quickly back to Joseph.

His expression was solemn, and he looked away for a moment before he finally spoke. ”There was a fight. Avdol… was protecting Polnareff.” Joseph words hit her like a truck. She inhaled sharply and sat immediately back down, trying to collect herself. “We weren’t able to save him. But we gave him a proper send off as best we could.” Joseph continued, and she very nearly felt like she was going to throw up. She looked at Polnareff, like maybe he’d have something to say to soften the blow, but he’d barely spared her a glance, too busy throwing himself at the woman who’d suddenly joined them. She was all but ready to punch him until Joseph sat down next to her and put a reassuring hand on her back.

She took a deep breath, and pulled her gaze away from the Frenchman.

”Who… did it?” She said slowly. “The man with two right hands?”

”Yes,” Joseph confirmed. “And there was another stand user, a man named Hol Horse.” That name rang familiar in her mind, though she couldn’t quite place why she recognized it. But she supposed it didn’t matter, not really. 

The loss of Avdol weighed heavily on her shoulders, and the air around all of them was tense. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep in a hotel waiting room while the others were out literally fighting for their lives. She should have been there. Maybe she could have turned the winds in their favor. It shouldn’t have been Avdol that they lost while she sat there without a care in the world, her spiraling mind showing her the lust drunk memories of a night she’d wanted nothing more than to erase from existence entirely. It should have been her out there. It should have been her.

She cast a glance towards Polnareff again, and he didn’t even acknowledge her. Her eyes searching him for some sort of explanation, something that would make the loss feel better somehow, but he was so wrapped up in that woman he didn’t even acknowledge her, and she couldn’t hold back then. She was so angry. So upset. He was standing there drooling over this stranger while she mourned the loss of a man who died protecting him.

“Are you kidding me?” She asked, drawing his attention as well as the woman’s. “Avdol just died because—because you were selfish! And now you’re standing here acting like this? Like nothing even happened!” Her hands were shaking by then, and she balled them into fists and tried to bite back the tears forming in her eyes. “I can’t believe this. Never mind, let’s just go.” She said sharply, and stood to walk away from him

When she’d calmed down enough that she didn’t feel like a bomb about to go off, the others had explained what the next steps were, and soon enough they were all packed onto a hot, crowded bus to the next city. Her anger had been simmering quietly beneath the surface since they’d returned to fetch her from the hotel but it got worse and worse with every second that she was forced to listen to Polnareff rattle on and on and on to the woman, Nena, who had apparently become the groups newest companion. It was just like the very first day she joined up with them, when Polnareff talked her ear off in Singapore. To think that she’d ever felt bad about what she said to him, that at any point she’d regretted the way she treated him. She should have known. Should have known he was just like anyone.

Whatever sympathy or guilt she’d felt for him had dried up like a puddle in the summer, and she was left with her head pressed against the glass of the window, chewing on her lip to keep from telling him to shut up, or worse.

Kakyoin spoke up then, announcing to the others that they were finally reaching the city, and it stopped Polnareff’s rambling long enough that she could hear herself think again, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Polnareff’s lull in chatter was short lived, but the last few minutes of the drive felt much faster once she’d known the end was truly in sight. 

They pulled into the city and filed off of the bus, and she stretched dramatically when her feet reached solid ground again. Joseph had stood off to her right, examining his arm, and she craned her neck to see what exactly he was looking at. On his arm was a large, swollen growth, probably infected, and she resisted the urge to gag.

”That’s… Really gross,” She said honestly, trying to suppress the disgusted expression creeping across her face. “You should definitely get that checked out.” Joseph waved her away, but Polnareff was quick to add his two cents as well.

”Hey… doesn’t that sort of look like a persons face?” He wondered allowed, which earned a frustrated response from the old man. They went back and forth for awhile about it before Joseph finally excused himself to look for a doctor. 

Shortly thereafter, the rest of the group split up, with Kakyoin and Jotaro setting off to find somewhere to stay and Polnareff and Nena going off to do… Well, she wasn’t sure actually, and quite frankly she didn’t care to find out. She was just grateful for the reprieve she’d get from the sound of Polnareff’s voice and maybe, finally, the anger and frustration that had been steadily brewing inside of her would finally burn out.

She’d elected to use her unexpected moment of freedom to finally restock on the essentials that she’d been so sorely missing since she embarked on this journey. Nearly everything she’d brought along with her in the first place was probably long gone, and although she was traveling with three grown men and two teenage boys now, she certainly didn’t need to smell like them. 

As that thought crossed her mind, it occurred to her that in every instance she’d been close enough to Polnareff to well… Smell him, he’d smelled overwhelmingly good. Not that any of the others smelled particularly bad, but they did smell like they were spending their days doing lots of physical activity in very hot climates. She wondered how Polnareff managed to smell so nice despite that. He probably smelled better than she did. 

Then she realized that she was thinking about him again, and she shook her head. Her stupid looping thoughts always made their way back to him, and it made her angry. Why should she care if he smelled good? As if that wasn’t the bare minimum.

After she’d finished with her errands, she’d decided to just explore the city. Joseph was probably still wrapped up at the hospital, and god only knew when Polnareff and Nena would decide to retire for the night. She enjoyed, for once, being able to see the city she was in without some catastrophic or otherwise unfortunate event drawing her attention elsewhere. It was nice. It was exactly what she’d wanted when she’d set off on her own trip. 

As she walked the busy streets, she’d heard commotion and police sirens nearby, but she was still too far to be able to see or hear anything else. She did feel a brief flicker of worry, but she managed to brush it off, reminding herself that she was in a city, and there were always a million things happening all the time. An ambulance or cop car didn’t inherently mean that anyone was in trouble.

As she continued on her walk, she spotted Polnareff and Nena down the street, headed right in her direction. In a moment of panic, fueled by desperately wanting to avoid whatever the Frenchman had to say about his future wife, she darted into the first door she saw, closing it quickly behind her and letting out a breath of relief. 

In her haste, she hadn’t bothered to notice where exactly she’d rushed into, and as she gathered herself once more, she finally noticed the beautiful decor of the business she stood inside. It was dimly lit, with multiple lamps spread around the space bathing everything in a warm yellow hue, but it just added to the overall ambience of the place. There were paintings and shelves of trinkets lining every inch of the wall, luxurious drapes with golden tassels, a rug beneath her feet that was so lovely she almost felt bad for standing on it, and a sprawling mural across the ceiling that she struggled to pull her gaze away from. Truthfully, she had no idea what sort of place she was standing within. If it was a store, it was absolutely well above her tax bracket, and she briefly considered running back out into the street for fear of accidentally breaking something. But before she could move one way or another, a pair of dark indigo curtains pulled back to reveal the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen.

The woman sat at a small table with an ornate cloth laid atop it, and across from her was a rickety wooden chair that stood out starkly against the backdrop of the rest of the room. 

“Greetings,” The woman spoke then, her voice like a melody. “Fate has beckoned you here. Have a seat.” She motioned to the empty chair.

She looked on for a moment at the woman, eyeing the chair that she wasn’t quite sure would be able to hold her for how old and worn it was. Never mind the fact that she was surely dreaming for how unbelievable the whole thing felt. Still, she felt compelled to listen to the woman’s request. 

She sat down in the chair, and although it creaked under her weight, it held steady. The woman across from her watched quietly, and as she forced herself to make eye contact, she was struck once again by just how beautiful she was. 

“Something told me you were coming here. The cards have a message for you, if you’re open to hear it.” The woman told her, and presented her with a stack of cards. Tarot cards. She very nearly laughed. As if she hadn’t had enough grief from tarot cards already. Still, she was curious.

”Sure, yes, I’ll hear what the cards have to say.” She agreed with a shrug, and the woman started to shuffle the deck of well-loved cards between her hands. She watched as the first card flew out from the deck, and the woman paused to align it straight on the table.

As her eyes followed the card down, she couldn’t hide the shock that spread across her face. There, right on the table, was the Ace of Cups. 

She kept quiet and continued watching the woman shuffle. More cards slipped out and landed on the table, and each time the woman would pause and adjust them in a neat little row. Finally, the woman seemed pleased with the number that had fallen out, and she placed the remaining stack to the side. The woman poured over the cards in silence, while she just looked on from across the table in confusion and curiosity.

Four cards lay on the table in front of her. The Ace of Cups was upside down from where she looked, but the other three cards faced towards her – The High Priestess, six swords, three swords. Finally, the woman spoke again.

“You are experiencing a new beginning right now… New feelings… Love, perhaps? But you don’t want to acknowledge these things, won’t recognize those fresh feelings or the changes that will come because of them. You have far too much that is still unresolved. Too many things weighing you down, preventing you from leaning into what the future holds.” She paused, and squinted at the cards. “But you are getting closer to the future, further from the past. Each day brings you nearer to coming to terms with it all. But you must open your heart to the changes, or you will be stagnant forever.”

As the woman spoke, nearly all she could think about was Polnareff. It made her want to scream. It all rang so true that she wished she could yell at the mysterious woman to take it all back, that she didn’t want to hear any of it. But she knew that was dramatic. What stock had she ever put in tarot cards before? Maybe she just had all of her issues written so plainly on her face that the woman was able to read her like a book.

Suddenly, the woman bent down, reaching for something on the floor beside her. When she sat back up again, she laid a card on the table. The Empress. The woman looked at it quizzically for a moment.

”This one is not for you… But I believe one of your companions is in great danger. You must go, quickly.” The woman said, standing up from her seat and ushering her toward the front door. 

“What?” She asked as the woman all but grabbed her and pushed her outside. “But I don’t— I haven’t paid you or anything.” She argued, confused.

”There’s no time. You must go now, or something truly terrible may happen.” The woman urged, escorting her back onto the street and closing the door her.

She just stood, speechless for a moment, before she heard the familiar sound of Joseph’s voice. She whipped her head around just in time to watch the old man dash into an alleyway, clutching his arm. Sirens blared not far off, and she felt momentarily dizzy, before she forced herself to get it together, and took off in the direction that Joseph had gone.

She went down the length of the alley that Joseph had disappeared into, coming out the other side on the next street over. The old man was still nowhere to be seen. She took a quick glance at her surroundings, before deciding to trust her intuition and take a right. She walked the length of the street, looking down every alley and alcove, her motivation dwindling by the second. The old man had gone to the hospital alone, and now she was just berating herself for not going along with him. They should all really know better by now than to let anyone go off by themselves.

Finally, after what felt like forever, she’d spotted familiar shapes at the end of yet another narrow alley. She raced towards them, nearly out of breath, and found Joseph carelessly learning against the brick wall while Polnareff stared like he’d seen a ghost at a woman lying on the ground before them.

”What… the hell… happened?” She wheezed, trying to catch her breath.

”Nothing you need to worry about now.” He said casually, brushing dirt off of his pants as he stood up straight. “But Polnareff here might be traumatized for a few days.” Joseph smacked Polnareff on the back, making the Frenchman drop his arms and shake his head, looking absolutely defeated. 

“More like a few years…” He mumbled.

She looked at Joseph, at Polnareff, at the woman on the ground who seemed to be wearing the same clothes that Nena had been wearing earlier, and back to Joseph, and she was suddenly relieved to have arrived exactly when she did. She heaved a deep sigh and stood up straight, shaking her head.

”Glad to hear you’re okay, Mr. Joestar.” She muttered, wiping the sweat from her brow.

-

Later on, everyone regrouped while Joseph went off to deal with the legal troubles he’d incurred during the stand attack. She wondered just how many times the group would get into hot water with the law. Surely they’d be international criminals by the time the whole thing was said and done. Thank god she was seeing the world now, because when everything was over they’d almost certainly all be on the no-fly list.

Jotaro had been complaining about the old man’s run in with the law being to blame for the fact that they were all sitting out on the curb as the sun set. She was just grateful that they’d all made it through the day in one piece. She made a mental note to take more care in keeping them all together in the future. They’d already lost far too much to be reckless with their lives now.

Just then, Joseph made his return.

”I took care of things. We can take this car.” He motioned towards the vehicle parked nearby. “Polnareff, you do the driving.” He tossed the keys to the Frenchman, who’d maintained the same horrified, hollowed-out look on his face since she’d seen him earlier that evening. All she could think was that it served him right. “What? Don’t tell me you’re still in shock. I was the one who was attacked by the stand!” Joseph berated Polnareff, whose demeanor didn’t change in the least.

”Sure, but… I think I’d rather have gone through that.” He said weakly. 

The group set off with Polnareff behind the wheel despite his mood, and in the brief stretch of time while the car was still quiet, she’d sunk deep into her thoughts again, now with plenty of fresh material to pick apart.

She thought of the incredibly strange encounter she’d had with that woman, the fortune teller. She would have been perfectly content to brush it all to the side despite its eerie accuracy, until she thought back to the card that had fallen on the floor. The Empress. The card that represented the very same stand that had attacked Joseph that day. How on earth could that woman have known the things that she did? Not to mention that the very first card that had fallen from the deck was the representation of her very own stand, Ace’s Cup.

New beginnings. New feelings. Unresolved issues of the past. How could she have known any of it? It was frightening. 

As if she didn’t already have plenty on her plate to stew on whenever her thoughts drifted. Another layer of mystery to dig through, to analyze. New feelings. Love. She wanted to throw up just thinking about it. New feelings for who? In love with who, exactly? She was on a trip with an old man, two teenagers, and…

That was the point where she forced herself to think of something else. That was a stupid line of thought. She hated him. Everything he did made her want to scream at him. She chose to ignore that all of her thoughts kept looping back to him.

-

He’d spent the past twenty four hours throwing himself at the feet of a woman who’d barely spared him a passing glance. Doing it all in front of her, no less. But he couldn’t help it. 

Defeating the man with two right hands felt pitiful held up against the fact that Avdol had died in his pursuit of it. He’d completed his mission of avenging his sister, but at what cost? Was it worth it to have done it if yet more innocent lives were lost in the process? 

When Nena’s true form was revealed, it truly felt like icing on the cake. Like just another kick while he was already down, but he couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t deserved. He could almost hear her laughing at him, saying the very same things he’d been thinking when she found him and Joseph in that alley. She didn’t, of course, but she didn’t have to. He knew she was thinking it right alongside him.

He’d just wanted a distraction, really. Was that too much to ask for? A fleeting earthly comfort in the face of all that he’d lost already, all that was lost because of him. He’d felt bad about fawning over Nena in front of her, but what did he have to lose? He was already the lowest of the low in her eyes, it’s not as if his shameless flirting would have changed her opinion of him all that much. Or maybe it did. She’d said it herself, after all. That he was selfish. That it was his fault. And she was right.

As the car sped down the road, the streets getting less and less populated the further they went, his eyes kept drifting back to her reflection in the rear view mirror. Brows furrowed, chewing on her lip as her eyes stayed fixed to the view outside the window. He wished he knew what she was thinking about. He was also terrified of the idea of finding out. She hadn’t said anything to him since they’d left Calcutta, hadn’t even yelled at him, didn’t even laugh at his expense.

He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to explain himself. But he couldn’t find the right time, if she’d even spare him the time anyways. He tried to tell himself he didn’t care what she thought of him, and it wasn’t as if her opinion of him was going to be raised anytime soon. But that wasn’t true. He cared deeply. He wanted her to like him more than anything else, wanted her to look at him the way he looked at her.

He looked at her again from the mirror, and her eyes were closed, forehead pressed against the window and lips slightly parted. She must have fallen asleep. She looked beautiful.

It was going to be a very long drive.

Chapter Text

She was pulled sharply back to consciousness by the feeling of the car skidding to a stop. She jolted awake, blinking the blurriness out of her vision and looking to the others for some kind of explanation, though they all seemed equally confused. 

“What’s up? Why’d you stop?” Kakyoin asked, sounding as equally frustrated as she felt.

”I told you, a crash could be disastrous!” Joseph berated Polnareff, who was quick to defend himself.

”I know that! Just, look who’s standing there!” Polnareff pointed out the window, and she craned her neck to see. Standing on the side of the road with her thumb out, was Anne. 

“Good freakin’ grief.” Jotaro grumbled, vocalizing exactly what she’d been thinking. She was floored. Hadn’t Anne stayed behind in Singapore? How did she make it all the way out here?

”Hey! Long time no see guys. Got room for one more?” The girl asked from outside the car, uncaring of the way everyone stared in shock. But she’d joined them regardless, the back row now exceptionally cramped with the addition of yet another body. 

There were four of them in the backseat then, with her and Anne squished between Joseph and Jotaro, and Anne all but sitting on the teenager’s lap. After some questioning, Anne had finally fessed up about her lies of meeting her father.

”I mean, come on, I’m a girl! Soon I’ll be doing girl things like wearing a bra, and doing my nails to get the attention of boys. I’d look pathetic wandering around the world when I’m that age.” The girl had gone onto explain, casting a very pointed look in her direction as she laid out her reasonings. She couldn’t help but feel a little slighted, though she tried to remind herself that there was no point being insulted by a little girls opinion. She’d felt much the same when she was that age. And if she was being honest with herself, she did look a little pathetic these days. 

“This is the only chance I have to be free and see the world! Know what I mean? Look, I feel bad for lying about going to see my dad in Singapore, but let’s just forget about that. “ Anne continued, and just then, a car appeared dangerously close behind them, inches from the rear bumper and honking the horn wildly.

Following that, Anne’s disapproval quickly became the least of her worries. The once peaceful drive down the rocky mountain roads had devolved into an all out battle for survival. A car stand, just another entry on the list of unbelievable things she’d encountered thus far. It was all a tense blur of fighting and fleeing, being hunted through the mountains and cliffs of the desert, dodging invisible bullets and being taunted all the while by a crackling voice through the radio. The stakes were so much higher with the addition of Anne, everyone forced to fight twice as hard to keep her safe. It was exhausting, and a much closer call than she’d care to admit. 

The fight had come to a close and resulted with the car they’d all started out in being little more than a steaming pile of scrap, and Jotaro’s beloved school coat was nothing but ash. They were forced to squish into the much smaller, rickety remains of the stand user’s car. It was likely on its last legs even before the beating it got from Jotaro, but it had managed to stay in one piece long enough to carry them to the next town. 

Things had worked out in the end as Joseph decided it was best to stay the night in town and recuperate after the long day. Jotaro needed to get a new coat made after the last one went up in flames, and there was a small airport in town that could take Anne back to Hong Kong. 

At the end of a very long day of fighting and running errands, they’d all settled in at a small bed and breakfast in town. She’d could’ve cried when she was handed her own room key, ready to fall into a clean, soft bed and sleep for as long as time would allow. 

As soon as she’d entered her room, she dropped everything to the floor, collapsing into the bed, not bothering to even take her shoes off. She would force herself to get up and shower eventually, but for now all she wanted to do was enjoy the plush mattress against her aching body. 

But the relief she felt was fleeting, as the persistent sensation of stinging in multiple points on her body began to gnaw at her. She let out a sad little whine, forcing herself to roll over to inspect herself. 

There were multiple filthy holes in her shirt, and when she’d pulled off the garment, there were matching holes in her flesh. She brushed her fingertips over the small wounds, and sighed. Those damn gasoline projectiles.

Somewhere in the mix of adrenaline and constant distraction, she’d failed completely to notice them sooner. The wounds weren’t bad. Not especially deep, but growing more painful the longer she sat and thought about them. 

It took all of her willpower to stand up from the bed and sort through her one small bag, finding absolutely nothing of use. Of all the stores she’d went to before, she’d somehow neglected to buy anything resembling a first aid kit. She heaved another deep sigh. She would at least have to clean them in the shower, and cross her fingers that they’d have something for her at the front desk.

-

She couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t feel massively better after a shower. Her wounds still burned even after being cleaned, but washing away the dirt and gasoline and who knows what else that had built up during the course of the day made her almost feel like a person again. 

She knew that she had to make herself go downstairs to the lobby and at least ask for disinfectant and some bandages, but she worried that if the others caught wind of it, particularly Jotaro, it would be used in the case against her. The wounds weren’t that bad, really, but with the combination of gasoline and assorted filth that had made their way inside throughout the day, the last thing she’d wanted was to risk an infection.

So off she went to the front desk. And when she got there, she was sorely disappointed. Clearly there was a language barrier somewhere, or some other kind of misunderstanding, or maybe the host just really didn’t have a first aid kit, but she’d left the lobby empty handed. She cautioned a trip to both Joseph and Kakyoin’s rooms, but had no luck there either. 

She stood in the hallway outside her room now, weighing her options. Asking Jotaro, obviously, was out of the question. Not only did she not think that he’d have one, she didn’t care to deal with whatever disapproving look and snide remark he’d have for her if she did ask. So that left two options.

She could venture out into the city and buy a first-aid kit. But it was already, late, and it was dark out, and she’d really had no desire to leave the bounds of the hotel. Or she could… ask Polnareff. She couldn’t decide which of those options seemed less appealing.

-

He walked out of the bathroom and let the towel covering his head slip down to his shoulders, running a hand through his still-wet hair and shaking free a few droplets of water. He sat down on the bed and rubbed a hand down his face before he fully reclined back onto the mattress. He knew that he should be getting ready to sleep — but he also knew that if he crawled into bed now, it would only result in several hours of tossing and turning while being haunted by the same endless thoughts that wracked his mind every other night. 

He pushed himself up from the bed just enough to pull the TV remote from the nightstand, flicking to a random channel. He’d started to click up the volume, some vague hope that the blaring sound from the speakers might drown out his spiral of thoughts — but then there was a knock at the door. 

He dried his hair with the towel once more before he let it fall to the bed and stood to get the door. He wondered who could be knocking. Not that it was particularly late, but rarely did he see any of the others after they’d parted ways for the night save for emergencies. He hoped nothing had come up since then. He supposed it could be Mr. Joestar asking to borrow his shampoo again.

When he reached the door and pulled it open, not bothering to check the peephole, never in a million years would he have guessed who was standing on the other side.

It was her.

He just stared at her, unable to form the words to say anything, while she stood looking less than pleased.

”Hi.” She said softly, softer than he expected, though still tinged with something like annoyance. “Do you have a first aid kid I can borrow?” She asked, crossing her arms.

He didn’t know what to say. He just looked at her, the way her wet hair fell around her shoulders, leaving damp spots on her shirt. She was in pajamas — plaid shorts and a plain white t-shirt. He’d never seen her like this before. 

He must have stared too long, because she looked up at him then, impatiently.

”If you don’t have one you can just say that. You don’t have to look at me like I have three heads.” She said sharply. Finally, he stuttered out an answer.

”No— Yes. I do have one.” He said, but made no move towards it, and she just looked at him with her brows furrowed.

”So can I use it or not?” She asked, growing frustration evident in her tone, and finally he moved out of the doorway to let her in. She paused, giving him a look that he couldn’t quite place, before she finally stepped in beside him.

”It’s just in here.” He explained as he ducked into the bathroom, pulling the little plastic box out of his bag before returning to her.

She was standing there with her arms crossed, and she seemed to startle when he came back out. But he walked to her with his arm out, extending the box to her.

”Where are you hurt? Is it bad?” He asked, watching the way her eyes flicked to the kit and then up to him. 

“I’m fine.” She said curtly, her expression stern. Her brows knit together for a moment before her features softened, and she looked away. “It’s just… my stomach. And my shoulder. Those fucking gas bullets from earlier.” She explained with a sigh, reaching out to take the box from his hand. His grip tightened.

He realized then that he wouldn’t get another chance like this. To talk to her without prying eyes. To try and make things better in setting that so perfectly mimicked that first night with her, when he’d let things go so wrong. He wanted to explain himself. To tell her how he really felt in some misguided hope that she might think better of him somehow.

”I could— I could help. If you like.” He said quickly, still holding on to the little plastic box that was currently bridging the gap between them. “Since I’ll be able to see better. And I…” He trailed off, and swallowed. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” She looked at him in a way he’d never seen before, and he knew that she was weighing her options. But finally, she appeared to make a decision, and released her grip on the box.

”Fine. Yes. That would be helpful.” She said, and she almost sounded frustrated with herself for agreeing. “But if I lift up my shirt and you stare for a second longer than I personally deem necessary, I promise you will regret it.” 

He knew she wasn’t joking, so he nodded slowly. But there wasn’t the same bite in her tone as usual — it almost sounded lighthearted.

He motioned for her to sit on the bed, and she did. He laid the first-aid kit out beside her, and lowered himself to his knees on the floor in front of her. He started to soak a gauze pad with antiseptic, while she sat there quietly. He had to say something. Had to break the silence. Had to get out the words that had been brewing inside him for so long. Had to let her know how he really felt. But the words felt stuck.

He cleared his throat. 

“I wanted—“ He started, but paused almost immediately, trying to orient the words in a way that made sense. “I wanted to explain myself to you. I’m not— I don’t think of you in any sort of way. I don’t want you to think that I did, or do expect something from you. And I don’t want you to think that I—“ He stopped short again, struggling to say it all out loud and cursing himself for the way he tripped over every other word. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t care about what happened to Avdol, because I do. It’s all I can think about.”

There was a long beat of silence, and he kept his gaze fixed to the bottle of antiseptic in his hands. He wondered what she was thinking. He wondered if she was going to storm out.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Why does it matter what I think?” She snapped, but her tone didn’t quite match her words. He looked up at her, searching her expression like it might hold the answer for all of his questions, but when their eyes met she just let out a groan. “I didn’t mean— All I meant was that you shouldn’t care what someone like me thinks of you. Why should my opinion matter when all I’ve been is awful to you?”

”You haven’t been awful to me. You haven’t said anything to me that wasn’t called for.” He said quietly, and he meant it. She’d only ever said the things he’d already been thinking. She was the only one to keep it straight with him. Why would she suddenly walk it back? 

“That’s not true.” She said, and looked away. “Look, I didn’t even really mean what I said to you about Avdol. He wanted to protect you, he’d probably be happy to know he succeeded. You don’t have to sit here and justify yourself to me. Now can you just give me a band-aid so I can go to bed?” 

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to respond. So he just nodded. 

She huffed, and began taking off her shirt, so he looked away. But he wasn’t so noble as to resist a glance. Out of the corner of his eye, as she tugged the garment off, he cautioned a look at her. Her skin was soft and smooth. He watched the flex off her muscles as she pulled the shirt over her head, her gentle curves, let his eyes follow the slope of her chest until it was abruptly cut off by the fabric of her bra. He felt his face heat, so he looked away again. But in that moment he realized that was where he wanted to spend the rest of his life — on his knees at her feet, committing every piece of her to memory and looking for the secrets of the universe in her eyes.

-

As the cool air brushed against her newly exposed skin, she became very aware of the fact that she was alone in his room and she’d just taken her top off. She started to feel hot. She became suddenly conscious of every inch of her body — every curve, every roll, every imperfection. She wasn’t looking at him, and he wasn’t looking at her, but she was painfully aware of the fact that he would be soon.

She cleared her throat to let him know she was ready, and as he moved toward her, she was suddenly hit with a flood of memories. She started to feel nauseous. She didn’t want him to see her, to touch her, to even be aware of the fact that she existed physically. It was all too much. He was too much. Too nice. Too gentle. She could feel every place where her fleshed touched against itself, the way her body bent and folded, the bumps on the surface of her skin. She felt exposed. 

He pressed the cotton pad gently against her injuries, and it stung, and she felt the brush of his fingertips against the skin of her stomach, and she thought she was going to pass out. 

“Wait.” She said, inhaling sharply, and pushed his hand away. 

She shut her eyes tight and took a deep breath. It was too much of everything. The thought of any part of him touching any part of her made her feel like she was going to die. Thinking about the last time she’d let someone else touch her at all pulled the air from her lungs. She felt dizzy. 

She was sure he was looking at her, with his stupid face twisted with worry and eyes full of concern. She knew he’d be confused. But that just spurred her on even harder. She had to leave before he had the chance to question her, to say anything. She couldn’t bear to look at him, to her anything that would fall from his lips. She had to get out of there, go anywhere else. 

And then she left. Stormed out of the front door and into the hallway and all but ran back to her room — her brain yelling at her the whole time to get it together, to apologize, to go back and act like a normal human being. But she couldn’t. 

It all happened so quickly, she couldn’t even really recall leaving his room. One minute she was there and the next minute she was pressed against the shut door of her own room, panting heavily and feeling the world spin. 

She crawled onto the bed, laying on top of the covers and staring at the wall for god knows how long. Her chest felt tight. Her cheeks were wet but she didn’t even know when she’d started crying. It was all too much.

Why couldn’t she be normal? Why did he have to be nice to her? Why did he feel the need to explain himself to her? Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

Her thoughts played on a loop, repeating over and over like a broken record. She wished it would stop. She wished she could go back to him and say she was sorry, thank him for trying to help. But she couldn’t. 

The minutes ticked by as she laid there like a corpse. She felt like a shell of a person. A ghost in the shape of a girl. Then there was a knock at the door.

She didn’t want to get up. She didn’t want to think about who might be on the other side. Maybe if she didn’t move they’d go away. But then she thought that it might be an emergency, and the fear of uncertainty outweighed the fear of having to face her mistakes. So she rubbed her eyes and took a breath, and got up out of bed.

She walked to the door and checked the peephole, but she didn’t see anyone outside. Then she started to worry. Maybe something terrible had happened and they didn’t have time to wait for her to get up, so she scrambled to get the door unlocked and look out into the hallway.

When the door opened she saw it. She thought she was going to be sick. 

On the floor was Polnareff’s first-aid kit, and on top there was a folded piece of paper next to a candy bar. All she could do was stand there and look at it. She wanted to scream. She wanted to kick it out into the hallway. But she didn’t.

She bent down and picked it up, hands shaking, and carried it back inside the room. 

She set it down on the bed and stared at it a little longer. She didn’t want to touch it. But she did. She reached out and grabbed the little piece of paper and unfolded it.

I’m sorry.

Was all it read. The handwriting was neat and looping, written on the paper from the little notepad that came in every room. And there was that candy bar, still sitting on top of the first-aid kit. She was going to throw up. She was going to kill him. She was going to run away.

He was the most confusing man she’d ever met in her entire life. Or maybe it was her that was confused. One minute she wanted to kill him for being such an insufferable ass. The next minute he did this, and she didn’t know what she wanted anymore. 

She wished that they had met in another life instead. Or met before she was so broken and insane that all she knew how to do was yell at him. She wished that she knew how to stop being like that. 

But she didn’t. Not yet, anyway. And maybe she never would. So she folded up the little note he’d written her, and put it in her pocket, too afraid to put it in her bag or anywhere else for fear of losing it. 

And she stared at the little plastic box for a long time. Too long, probably. But eventually she picked it up and carried it to the bathroom with her, laying it out in the counter as she removed her shirt and stared at the state of her reflection. 

It was getting harder and harder to look in the mirror these days. But she forced herself to reckon with what stood before her. Red, puffy eyes. Pale, uneven skin. A hollowness in her features she hadn’t really seen before. She looked at the wounds on her abdomen and shoulder, and with shaking hands, she cleaned each of them up. She bandaged them all with the supplies he’d given her, running her fingers over the now-covered injuries when it was all done, and she couldn’t help but feel like there was a metaphor somewhere in it all. . 

She got back into bed when it was all done — under the covers this time. And she sat and ate the candy bar he’d left her. She didn’t know how he’d known it was her favorite.

 When she finally fell asleep, she was plagued by the same restless dreams that haunted her every other night. But in those horrible nightmares, where she clawed her way through an endless, dark tunnel, there was a light at the end of it all that hadn’t been there before. 

There in the sunshine with a warm smile on his face, he stood like a beacon of hope in all of her grief. 

Chapter Text

Several days had passed since that night with Polnareff, and many things had happened since then. Too many to name, really, too much for her to wrap her head around.

Polnareff’s first-aid kit had been burning a hole in the bottom of her bag ever since then, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to return it to him. It was easy to make excuses to herself, to reason that recent days had been so busy that she hadn’t had time, but deep down she knew that wasn’t precisely the case. She was scared.

She was too afraid to face him, unable to string together the words to apologize or thank him or say anything. Obviously it wasn’t something she’d wanted to mention in front of the others, but the idea of being alone with him again made her nauseous. So she’d just thanked the stars that she hadn’t yet been backed into a corner, left alone with him at all where she’d be forced to face it. 

The days that had stretched on since then had been tense and uncomfortable, every spare moment her mind wasn’t actively occupied elsewhere was spent trying to figure out a way to get the whole thing over with. Surely he’d ask her about it at some point, surely there would come a time where she’d have no other option but to face him. 

The events that transpired that night had left her feeling uneasy and confused, when she still wore the bandages he’d given they felt hot against her skin, the plastic box in her backpack felt like it was as heavy as a boulder, and the note he’d left felt like it was electrified, sending shocks rippling across her skin every time she felt it in her pocket. 

Because that was where it had stayed since then. In her pocket – transferred from her pajamas to her normal clothes and back again each time she’d had the chance to change. She couldn’t bring herself to let go of it, to throw it away, to let it fall into her bag and risk it getting crumpled or torn. She’d wanted to keep it, for some strange, foolish reason.

Her wounds had healed since then, too. Little more than tender pink skin underneath the fabric of her clothes, certainly in no need of a bandage anymore, so it’s not like she could justify her extended possession of the first-aid kit as her still using it. She just didn’t want to give it back to him, didn’t want to confront the strange and almost frightening feeling that had been steadily building with in her since that night. Maybe even since before then.

She didn’t want him to ask her anything, didn’t want to spill a confession to him, didn’t want to see the look on his face, didn’t want him to be able to see any of the complicated, swirling thoughts inside her mind.

But by some divine form of luck, she’d been able to avoid him even without going out of her way. Things had been so busy, so unbelievable, even without her efforts to avoid him it likely would have been sometime before she’d been given the chance to confront him even if she had been brave enough.

First it was Justice. A ghost town, a haunted hotel, possessed corpses. She’d been glued to Joseph’s side for much of that, frightened of the eerie town and too nervous to linger in Polnareff’s presence. He’d gone off his own, getting into all sorts of trouble while left to his own devices. She’d felt a little bad afterward for having so staunchly avoided him, seeing where he ended up and just how unconcerned the others were with his whereabouts. But she tried to reassure herself that he wasn’t her responsibility, and Jotaro had taken care of things anyways.

After that was the Lovers. She’d been stuck with Kakyoin and Polnareff – and Joseph, for that matter – for much of that, though there was far too much happening by then for her to have considered trying to talk to him privately. It had just been one thing after another, never a break, never a moment to breathe.

Which brought them to the Sun.

A long, hot day in the desert, under the blistering rays which grew hotter and hotter with each passing moment, threatening to fry them all to a crisp. Up against a stand that seemed entirely unbeatable, suffocating them with the heat until they were gasping for air and drenched in sweat.

Huddling together in what little shade a solitary rock ledge provided, pressed against the bodies of two grown men and two hormonal teenagers, the radiating aroma of B.O. had nearly been worse than the heat that caused it. Not that she thought she smelled any better, but it was certainly enough to make her consider taking her chances with the Sun just to be away from the overpowering smell.

But they’d realized shortly after that the seemingly invincible stand was actually anything but. Nothing more than a clever illusion. It baffled her that the thing that almost took them all out in one fell swoop was only a well placed mirror. But she supposed it wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last that something so ridiculous had unfolded. Really, each passing day gave her more and more reason to believe that she was simply stuck in a very long, very strange dream.

But the stand user had eventually been defeated, and when the Sun in the sky had vanished, it left a dark and cold night in its place. A stark difference from the previously suffocating heat, it had become a crisp and unforgiving chill, forcing them to hunker down for the night with tents and a campfire. Crowded around their singular source of warmth, reeling from the days events and their bodies surely on the precipice of going into shock from the extremes they’d experienced. 

It had been unusually quiet that night, their makeshift dinner came and went, and one by one, they each turned in for the night. First it was Joseph, followed shortly by Kakyoin, which left her at the fire with Jotaro and Polnareff. She’d felt a brief flicker of nervousness — but the two had chatted with each other for long enough that she hadn’t felt the need to scatter right away, only listening in lazily to their conversation. 

The silence had settled over them again quickly, though it wasn’t quite uncomfortable. She hadn’t become so nervous yet as to abandon the fire, sitting quietly in the warmth of it with a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

Staring into the wriggling flames and feeling its comfort against her cool skin, listening to the crackling of the wood within had painted her into the perfect scene to linger on her thoughts. The thoughts that so frequently looped their way back to him. 

She slipped her fingers into the pocket of her dress, letting them skim over the little slip of paper nestled inside, paper that was already growing worn from the constant friction of her clothes. It sent those familiar tingles through her skin as she pondered it, and even dared to cast a glance in his direction. 

He was on the other side of the fire, looking into the blaze and his eyes reflecting its brightness. She felt suddenly anxious, and pulled her hand from her pocket and cast her eyes elsewhere, down to the shadows in the sand, as if either one of the people she sat across from would somehow be able to know what she was doing. 

But even with her hands away from it, the paper in her pocket burned against the fabric of her clothes, reminding her again and again of the night in which she received it. She was alarmingly conscious of the author’s presence across from her, uncomfortably aware of the mess of emotions that had been steadily brewing inside of her since then and desperate to lock them away. But that wasn’t to be her fate, especially not that evening. 

Jotaro had broken the extended silence as he stood to his feet, dusting the lingering sand off of his pants and muttering a swift goodnight before he’d taken his leave. 

The realization that she’d been left alone with Polnareff had distracted her so much she hadn’t even said goodnight to the teen as he left — too focused on the pit that had appeared in her stomach.

The silence that had followed Jotaro’s absence was oppressive, the tension of it thick enough to cut through. She’d wondered, briefly, if she sat still enough, maybe Polnareff would fail to notice her sitting there at all. 

But she knew that was a fantasy, and in the moments that stretched on following Jotaro’s departure, she felt her options quickly dwindling. She had to do something, say something — at least throw the first aid kit out of her tent and in his direction before she barricaded herself inside. 

She stood up quickly, letting the blanket fall from her shoulders and onto the sand. “Wait here.” She ordered him, without giving herself the chance to think better of it, before she swept off to her tent to rummage through her bag. 

She’d dumped the contents of it on the ground inside, the plastic box being the very last thing to unstick itself from its hiding place within. Her eyes lingered on it a moment, strongly considering just throwing it into the sand outside her tent and ignoring it all until morning. But her blanket was still by the fire, and there was an undeniable tug in her gut, urging her to go back out to him.

If she’d been any smarter, she would’ve turned it all right back on him — written him a note and left the whole thing outside his tent in the sneaky way he had with her. But she wasn’t very smart – certainly not with things like this, and she didn’t even have a candy bar to offer him in return.

Then she suddenly felt guilty for not having considered returning his gesture before. Then she wondered why she felt the need to give him a candy bar at all. She didn’t even like him. Or so she kept telling herself. 

Putting an abrupt stop to her spiraling thoughts, she scooped up the box and marched back outside, refusing to give herself the chance to question it any further.

Standing in front of him, arm extended and eyes looking elsewhere, she felt uncomfortably hot and exposed. She didn’t want to confront any of it — but really, she had no other choice.

The weight of the box remained in her hand far longer than she felt comfortable with — and she pushed it towards him impatiently, casting him a sidelong glance just in time to catch the stupid look on his face. Brows knit together, big blue eyes wide and lips slightly parted, always looking at her like a dumb little puppy. 

“Take it.” She urged him, her words coming out far more clipped than she’d intended, and when the weight of it was finally lifted from her hands, she was reminded of when he handed it to her the first time. The little plastic box turning into an olive branch, the bridge that connected them for the briefest of moments before she’d gone and blown it all up.

The memory made the plastic beneath her fingers feel like static, so she retracted her hand as soon as she was sure it wasn’t going to fall to the ground, and stormed back to her place on the other side of the fire. 

She pulled the blanket around her shoulders again, like maybe the cover of it paired with the distance she’d put back between them would be enough to make her feel like she could say something else to him, but her throat felt like it was coated in a thick sludge.

The silence between them stretched on a moment too long, and she swallowed down the blockage in her throat. Words quickly bubbled up in its place — filling her mouth and tumbling out before she’d had a chance to think any of it through. 

“Thank you for letting me borrow it. I got your note. And that stupid— no… It wasn’t stupid. But I got the candy bar too. I don’t know how you knew I liked that one…” She said the last part quietly — almost embarrassed to admit it at all. “I’m sorry for storming out like that, and I’m sorry for always acting crazy around you. It’s not even anything you did it’s just — I have problems. I don’t know. But I’m sorry you always get the worst of it. And I’m sorry for what I said about Avdol.” It all came out too fast, and she sounded like she was angry about the fact that she was saying it at all. And maybe she was, but it was too late to take it back. 

-

The words spilled from her lips quickly and clumsily, and caught him completely by surprise. He hadn’t even really expected her to return the first-aid kit, more than anything he’d thought she’d have thrown it away when she found it outside her door. He hadn’t known what he’d done that night to upset her, but the guilt of it still ate away at him every moment since then. 

He’d suspected that the next time he saw her, maybe she would have told him off for whatever it was that he’d done — but she’d avoided him instead, only speaking to him when the situation absolutely called for it. 

When she displayed the box in front of him, he thought that would be the end of it — she’d hand it back and retire for the night, and neither one of them would ever have to bring it up again. But she’d gone back to her spot across from him, and thrown a string of words at him that was so unexpected he thought for a moment he might’ve made the whole thing up. 

Up until that point, her thoughts on the whole thing had been one of the few things they seemed to be on the same page about. Her stinging words towards him following Avdol’s death had been the vocalization of every thought he’d been thinking himself. It was his fault — and he was a selfish and horrible man for moving on from it all so quickly. And even with his weak justifications for it all, the guilt of his sins had plagued him. 

“But you were right.” He said quietly, still unable to figure out why exactly she’d decided to walk it all back. 

“I wasn’t.” She shot back quickly, and didn’t give him another chance to argue before she continued. “Avdol wanted to protect you, to help you. He did exactly what he set out to do, and he would probably be happy to know he succeeded.”

”But he died because of me. All because I was too stupid to realize I was walking right into a trap, too blinded by my own anger and pride. Trying to avenge one person, just to lose someone else in the process because I’m too weak to do any of it on my own. Avdol should be sitting here right now, and Sherry should still be back in France, laughing like nothing bad ever happened. I shouldn’t have been the one to survive.” His shoulders felt heavy, and he let out a sigh. “Don’t you ever just wish you could go back and change things?”

She hesitated for a moment.

”All the time.” She finally admitted. “But I also think about all the other ways I might go back and mess it up. Like maybe I’d end up even worse off if I tried to fix things. So I try to tell myself it all happens for a reason.” He listened to the sharp inhale of her breath, unable to bring himself to look at her. “I have this big, horrible secret. It’s my biggest regret, and it follows me everywhere I go. Something so terrible and shameful that I’m sure you all would hate me for if you found out. But I have to believe that it was worth something, because at least it led me here.”

Her words settled in the air, and he considered them carefully. He wanted to believe her, but it all sounded so selfish. For her, maybe, it was true. That it all meant something, that it was worth it to her. But the same surely couldn’t be said for him. 

“But why did they have to die? Just so I could live on and continue making the same mistakes? It’s not fair. They should be here, instead of me.” He felt bad arguing like that, but some small part of him hoped that she could fix it, or justify it, or paint it all in a way that made it feel any better. But he knew that that was selfish, and far too much to demand from a woman who barely tolerated him on a good day. But still, he wanted her to try.

“I don’t know, Polnareff.” She admitted sadly. His name falling from her lips was unexpected, but he wanted her to say it again. “It’s not fair, and maybe I’m selfish for thinking that way. Because it probably doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes bad things happen and there’s nothing we can do but play the cards we’ve been dealt. But that still doesn’t mean that any of it was your fault. You can’t blame yourself for things that nobody could’ve predicted.”

The absolution from her lips was nearly enough to make him believe it, that maybe he could be granted pardon from his sins so long as the forgiveness came from her. He dared to look at her then, the warmth of the flames against her and shadows dancing across her skin. The firelight catching in her hair, illuminating her beautifully. An angel in the desert, sent specifically to save him.

“For what it’s worth… I don’t think any of us will hate you. For your secret, whatever it is. I certainly won’t.” He offered, not sure that it would mean much to her. But it was the truth – he was quite sure there was nothing she could do to make him hate her. 

Their gaze met, for a moment, and her eyes were warm and sad and maybe even hopeful, and he saw the light of the fire reflected within them. Maybe it was her own fire – burning just a fraction lighter in that small moment, and he wanted to kiss her. 

“I’m not sure you’d say that, if you knew.” She laughed, but it was empty, and she looked away from him again. “But thank you. And… I am sorry, really.”

-

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He said, in a way that briefly made her feel scrubbed clean of all her wrongdoings – said with such firmness and conviction that she felt, for a moment, like maybe it could have been true. 

She felt strange. Sitting across from him, so much laid out on the table in such a short amount of time, washing away the tension and grief that had been drawn so taut over the past several days. Their conversation had only left her feeling more confused – even less equipped to pick apart the complicated feelings she had towards him. But she couldn’t deny that she was left feeling better by the end of it. That maybe she had, finally, taken a step forward. A step towards him.

Their eyes met again for just a fraction of a second, and her heart beat thundered against her ribs. Her foolish, fickle heart, so easily swayed and so easily won. But he was different tonight – or maybe it was her that was different. But he looked handsome in the light of the fire. His eyes were sad, but still so tender, and she felt something inside of her settle – make a home for itself in her stomach.

She realized, then, that they were both dogs, but ones that had turned out entirely different. While she was so wrapped up in the pain she’d experienced in the past, unable to do anything but growl and bite even at those who looked to care – he was the opposite. Hurt and suffering and still searching for kindness in the same hands that hurt him before. 

She felt guilty again – and realized she had to leave before she broke the fragile bubble that they’d found themselves in that night. She felt better than she had in a long time, and she was suddenly gripped with devastating anticipation of when exactly it would come to an end – how or when she would find a new way to tear it all apart.

She pulled the blanket tightly around herself, and stood to her feet. She took one last look at him, the beginnings of a smile tugging at her lips.

“Goodnight, Polnareff. Thank you.” 

“Yes, I– Goodnight.” He stammered out in reply. She felt bad for the way her sudden politeness must have caught him off-guard when she’d been nothing but nasty to him every other day before then. She let that be the end of it, crawling into her tent and burrowing into her sleeping bag, feeling hopeful and guilty and nervous and confused all at once. 

It was cold away from the fire, and she was sure that the confusing whirlwind of thoughts stirring in her mind would keep her from falling asleep anytime soon – but the thing that had settled in her stomach was warm, and comforting. 

Chapter Text

The next day had been pleasant, surprisingly so. Finishing out their camelback journey across the desert and reaching the next town in time for dinner. There was one, glorious, uneventful night in a small hotel in the city before they were scheduled to set off via plane to their next destination. She tried to bite back the nervous anticipation that it was only the calm before the storm. 

It was a quiet night – she was alone in her room while the others were forced to double up, and she used her unexpected moment of peace to analyze every interaction she’d had with Polnareff since the very first moment they’d met. 

She’d pulled out the note he left her from its resting place inside her pocket, displaying it on the bed alongside the candy bar wrapper from that night that she also couldn’t bring herself to throw away. She went beat by beat through every conversation they’d had, every thought about him that had ever crossed her mind, using the two items on the blanket like they were evidence in a criminal investigation. 

That first night – she was just sensitive, fragile, unprepared for the comments he’d been throwing at her. It was easy to justify, even though she felt guilty about it looking back. But that day at the police station was harder to unpack. Why had she gotten so upset about it? Snapped at him like there was something he owed her.

Back then, she tried to reason that she was just full of herself – that underneath her distaste of his comments she liked the flattery and was insulted that he’d moved on so quickly. But… was that really all? Could that have been the only driving force behind the way she felt that day? The sinking feeling in her gut, the tears pricking at the edges of her eyes.

Were her hateful words following Avdol’s death really just the culmination of her grief, spilling out to attack the one person who was close enough to it all to blame? Or was it driven more by the fact he’d sought out comfort in someone other than her? 

But maybe she was just a mess, and her emotions were a complicated tangle that even she couldn't pick apart. 

The night she’d swallowed down her pride to go and ask for his first aid kit— the way he tried to explain himself to her when she was the last person whose opinion he should concern himself with. The delicate way he tried to tend to her wounds, fingers ghosting across her skin as he cleaned the injuries with care and politeness. 

And the note and the candy bar — the remnants of which were laid out in front of her now — the items that were placed carefully on top of the little box she’d rejected before, left outside her door with no expectations. Was that when the flip had switched for her? Did she realize her feelings were far more complicated than she’d initially thought when she cleaned her wounds with the supplies he’d left for her? Or when she read his note? Or was it when she laid in bed and ate the sugary treat —her favorite— that he’d picked out especially for her?

Even before her entanglement with Dio, she’d never been shown so much thoughtfulness. Every relationship she’d had in the past had been little more than scraps of affection that she’d somehow confused for love — not once had she been offered such tender care. He’d given her an apology for a mistake he hadn’t even made. Was she confusing the bare minimum kindness offered to a ally for something else?

She didn’t know. She didn’t know how to align it all in a way that made sense, and the circular track that her thoughts were running in was starting to give her a headache.

She slipped the note back in her pocket and put the wrapper back in her bag, but under the blankets with the lights off she still ran her fingers over the worn piece of paper — it was becoming a habit, she realized.

-

The next morning in Yarpline held the very obstacles she’d been expecting — and everything that came after it was just as chaotic and anxiety-inducing. An unexpected baby on the plane that was already too full. The plane crashing — she was sure Jotaro had jinxed them. Another cold night in the desert, and everyone convinced Kakyoin was losing his mind.

She wasn’t sure why they’d been so against the idea of a baby being a stand user. Quite frankly, that seemed pretty low on the list of unbelievable things they’d encountered up until then. But when the dust cleared the next day with no further signs of an attack, she supposed maybe Kakyoin really had been losing it, and she was the fool for thinking he wasn’t. Though she still couldn’t explain why she’d felt so exhausted despite having rested uninterrupted the whole night. 

All things considered, they’d made out shockingly well given the circumstances. The plane crash had only earned them a tense night in the desert followed by  a quick rescue. They’d been dropped off at the nearest town, the baby passed off to people who’d hopefully be able to reunite him with his mother or at the very least get him proper care. 

Mr. Joestar had gotten his hands on a speedboat after that, and she briefly wondered if they wouldn’t be riding to Egypt on a penny farthing next. 

Being out on the ocean would have been nice, the sun on her skin and the cool mist dampening her hair. But she was too distracted — too focused on the pit in her stomach that grew with every mile closer they got to Egypt.

That was where it all had started, the events that changed her life forever, changed her forever. The man whose touch had lingered on her like a brand, who plagued her nightmares, who turned her into a ticking time bomb. 

She knew that even after they reached Egypt, they wouldn’t find him right away, but still each moment that passed pulled them one step closer to him, and pulled her one step closer to fracturing. She was scared that she was going to slip again, only in a much bigger way. But she couldn’t. She had to keep it together. The only reason she’d demanded they take her with them was so that she could face him, too. Get her revenge on the man who’d poisoned her, broken her. She had to see it through to the end, whatever that may be. 

Jotaro’s voice pulled her suddenly back to the present.

”Hey, old man. Something’s off. You’re going the wrong direction. If you’re headed to Egypt, shouldn’t you be traveling directly west?” He asked, which caused her to look up, following his hand as it pointed over the horizon. “We seem to be heading to that island.”

”That’s right, nice deduction. I’ve had my reasons for keeping this to myself, but before we arrive in Egypt, we need to make a slight detour. Someone is waiting for us on that island. He’s a man who’s extremely important to our journey.” Joseph answered easily.

”What is that supposed to mean?” Polnareff asked — but the old man didn’t reply, keeping the air of mystery that served to double her growing dread.

She was relieved, at least, to delay their arrival to Egypt. But the secrecy and complete lack of communication unnerved her. 

It didn’t take long to reach the aforementioned island. It was small, but beautiful. Dense foliage and chirping birds, warm and bathed in sunshine. It would have been a lovely place to be if she weren’t so wracked with nerves. The others appeared to be as equally on edge as she was, waiting with bated breath for some sort of explanation. None came, however, and their attention was quickly drawn elsewhere as Jotaro took notice of a stranger hiding in the brush. 

As the mystery man emerged from his hiding place, she thought her heart was going to fall out of her chest. 

The others had vocalized her thoughts before she’d had a chance to say anything out loud, and as the unnervingly familiar individual ran out of sight, Polnareff was hot on his tail. They’d all followed close behind, reaching a small cottage where behind a fence the man who looked suspiciously like their friend had stood, feeding his chickens. 

She felt dizzy, and the sound of blood rushing through her ears had been enough to drown out the others vague murmurs of shock, until Polnareff uttered the name that had been on the tip of everyone’s tongues. 

Joseph cut him off quickly — giving orders to stay behind while he went to introduce himself.

”Go away!” The man snapped, back turned to them while she watched in some mixture of grief and shock. “I won’t hear it! I won’t say it again… Don’t talk to me, got it? No one ever comes to see me when they have actual good news to report… I only get visitors when something bad happens!” The man turned around quickly — revealing his full face, finally, and it sent ripples of shock through everyone. 

A face that was a mirror image of Avdol’s. A face that no one had expected to see again. But the all too familiar man shouted one last order at them to leave before he swept inside the little house, shaking the building with the force of the slamming door. 

“That wasn’t Avdol… It was his father.” Joseph explained, finally, his words solemn and regretful

“His father?” Polnareff asked, and her gaze drifted up to find his blue eyes wide and glassy, and a horrible flicker of pain on his behalf shot through her. She recalled his words from that night at the hotel, the things he’d confessed by the fire, the unimaginable sadness she’d seen in his features, and she was gripped with an overpowering urge to reach out to him.

 Joseph had gone on to explain that Avdol’s father lived alone on the island, and apologized for not having explained things before to protect the man from being put in unnecessary danger, before letting them know he had to figure out a way to get through to the man to let him know his son had died.

The tears pricked at her eyes and her heart twisted in her chest, but her grief felt miniscule held up against Polnareff’s, who’d turned away from them all by then. She could only begin to imagine the things he was going through, and she wished desperately for some way to ease it.

Joseph placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t let yourself go there. Avdol’s death wasn’t your fault.”

Polnareff stepped away from the touch, and sighed. “No, it’s entirely my fault. I’ll carry that burden for as long as I live.”

He still faced away from them, but she could picture exactly the expression he wore on his face, the same one he had that night in the desert. His brows furrowed and his eyes filled with such deep sadness and regret it was enough to make her stomach flip just at the thought of it. 

She would pick apart this action later, analyze it as she figured out where exactly it fit into the complicated web of emotions she’d been experiencing — but feeling his grief in her presence the same way you could feel the air shift before a thunderstorm, she reached out for his hand. 

He slipped away from her, whether he hadn’t the gesture or specifically rejected her attempted at comfort, she wasn’t sure. But he walked off then, towards the sea and away from her regardless, leaving her fighting an internal battle to go off and follow him or let him have his space. But Joseph had picked up on her uncertainty, and made her decision for her with a shake of his head.

Still, she stood and watched him as he went, until he’d disappeared entirely from her view. Her head felt like it was filled with static — still trying to unravel the mess of things she’d just learned.

In the chaos of her own mind, she’d failed completely to notice the conversation the others had been having, until a particular string of words had rattled her enough that she finally started to pay attention.

”—we ought to tell him as soon as we speak with Avdol.” Joseph’s voice reverberated through her ears like a shockwave, snapping her to attention as she cut in.

”What does that mean?” She asked, voice unsteady.

Her eyes met Joseph’s, and he looked uncomfortable for a moment — hesitating before he finally spoke. “Well… we haven’t been completely honest with you… or with Polnareff. That wasn’t Avdol’s father you saw…” He paused for a moment, like he was gearing up to say the next part. “And Avdol isn’t dead.”

There was a list of at least a hundred different things that would have shocked her less than the words that came out of the old mans mouth then. He could have told her that the world was made of candy and she would’ve been able to handle that information better than what he’d told her instead.

“What?” She asked, with an incredulous laugh she couldn’t hold back.

”Avdol was gravely injured after the fight, and we wanted to give him time to recover without the risk of another attack. We chose not to tell you because you had only just joined up with us and we still weren’t entirely sure if we could trust you, and we didn’t want to do anything that would put Avdol in unnecessary danger. And we didn’t tell Polnareff because… Well, he’s not exactly the most tight-lipped.” 

Josephs careful wording and gentle voice as he explained it all did little to soothe the anger that was quickly heating up inside of her. She closed her eyes and took a breath, trying desperately to find anything to say to them that wouldn’t just spill out as an incomprehensible scream. She didn’t care about the dig towards her trustworthiness as an ally. She didn’t care about her grief, or the time she spent mourning Avdol. She’d never really felt like it was her loss to grieve to begin with, despite the pain she felt following his loss. All that played in her mind was the way Polnareff told her he wished it was Avdol in his place instead, the profound sadness behind his eyes as he stared into the fire. The incredible burden he’d been carrying for the death of a man who was still alive.

”I don’t know what to say.” She said, calmer than she expected herself to be able to be. “I don’t care about the dig against me, or the grief I felt losing a comrade. I understand. It would have been reasonable to keep it from me. But how…” She paused as she felt her voice begin to tremble. “How could you do that to Polnareff? Do you have any idea what he’s been going through?” Another laugh spilled out then, and she was grateful, at least, that it replaced the cry of anger that threatened to come out instead. “Truthfully, I can’t even look at any of you right now. I’m going to find Polnareff.”

She took off quickly in the direction he’d gone earlier, not bothering to wait for any response from the others and unsure of what else she might say if she stuck around any longer. She’d figure it all out later — why exactly she felt like she needed to stand by the side of a man she once swore she hated. But for now, all she knew was that she had to do something to soften the blow he was about to receive. 

-

Polnareff had gone off to the edges of the little island – sitting on the beach as the sun set, watching the waves roll in as he considered every choice he made that had brought him to that moment. 

As if he hadn’t enough on his plate already, the words of Avdol’s father hit him like a truck. Bringing his guilt back in droves, making him wish above all other things that he’d been the one to die in that fight instead.

All he’d ever wanted was to bring his sister back – but he ended up killing his friend. The words she’d spoken to him that night felt inconsequential held up against how he felt now. Whatever relief or acceptance he’d felt then had long since vanished. He wished, desperately, that he could make it all go away. To trade his life for theirs. To allow the two people who had brought so much joy into his life another chance to shine. 

But he supposed all the wishing in the world wouldn’t do him much good. Neither of them would be coming back no matter how much he hoped and prayed, so all that was left to do was prevent the loss of anymore lives. 

That made him think of her. Of her unexpected benevolence that night in the desert. And it scared him. He realized then that she would be safer if she continued to hate him, because it seemed like everyone who ever made the mistake of caring for him paid for it with their lives. 

The thought of it hurt – the idea of never getting the chance to gain her affection, to never again see her look at him like she did by the fire, to never hear her voice soothe his worries. But it would be better that way. A thousand scathing words and cutting looks were nothing compared to the thought of never seeing her again – he would take the bitter sting of her voice directed at him over losing it any day. 

The things she’d said to him in the privacy of the desert night, the vulnerability in her eyes for one brief, shining moment, could be tucked safely away, a memory to be treasured. Years from now when they’ve parted ways, when she’s gone back to the life she had before all of this, he’ll think of the glimmer of a smile she’d offered him, so small and yet still so powerful. As he turns that memory over like a photograph, he’ll remember fondly the time he got to walk alongside the woman of his dreams.

“Polnareff?” The voice of an angel cut suddenly through his gloom, tender and uncertain. He startled like he’d been caught in the act – and, well, he sort of had been. The very woman who had taken up permanent residence in his thoughts was now somewhere in the near distance, calling out for him. 

He scanned his immediate surroundings, but he still couldn’t see her – could only hear the sounds of her footsteps as they crunched against twigs and leaves. He panicked then, not ready to face her, not ready to face anyone, really. Still too wrapped up in his grief and guilt to try and consider saying anything to her at all.

So like the coward he was, he hid. Dashed several feet away and hid himself behind a tree. He peered out from his cover enough to watch her make her way out of the foliage and onto the sand he’d just left. He ignored the fact that he felt like a stalker, too concerned with trying to unravel why exactly she’d come looking for him. Watched the way her dress blew in the breeze rolling in from the sea, as she kicked a rock and looked out on the ocean with an unreadable expression on her face. The warm light of the sunset on the edge of the horizon spilled over her skin like molten gold, making her look like a statue there on the sand, making her look every part the idol she was – the idol he worshipped.

Chapter Text

In a turn of events that really only could have happened to her, she found herself lost. How exactly she’d managed to get turned around on an island that was barely bigger than a swimming pool was beyond her, but she’d managed it regardless. 

She’d walked in probably twenty circles trying to find Polnareff, or the others, anyone really, but she had no luck. When she’d first set off, she was sure she’d heard his voice, but when she reached the end of the path onto the sand he was nowhere to be found. She walked at the edge of the water for a while, tracking the borders of the island until the brush spilled over and became too dense to wade through. 

In the time that she’d spent alone walking the same paths she swore she’d already been on at least ten times, her anger had settled to a steady simmer beneath the surface, no longer at risk of overflowing unless someone turned up the heat. 

She found it a little bit hypocritical that she’d be so upset with the others for lying to Polnareff when surely she’d treated him far worse, but it seemed such an unusually cruel way to go about things even if they hadn’t known how he was feeling. 

Eventually she’d given into the need for a break, collapsing in the sand and looking out onto the water. The sun had nearly set by then, and it drenched her surroundings in a purple hue. She wouldn’t let herself sit around like that for very long — too worried that Jotaro would make the others leave without her. But she was tired of running in circles, and her heavy heart was slowing her down.

The sand beneath her was damp from the rolling waves, and it would surely cling to her clothes, but she couldn’t find it within herself to care. She’d been gone long enough that Polnareff had probably already returned to the others, had Avdol’s return thrust upon him as ungracefully and insensitively as she’d feared. 

She still couldn’t figure out why she cared so much, but something within her kept urging her to reach out to him. Maybe because she’d seen just how strongly it all affected him, maybe she wanted to return the gesture after he’d tried to care for her that night. It was all too confusing, far too much for her to begin to detangle while the others were likely waiting for her.

She stood up with a huff then, scanning her surroundings and deciding to set off in a direction she was fairly certain she’d only been over five times before. She wiggled between dense twigs and leaves, taking a route that she was pretty sure no human had stepped foot on in years, and as she all but crawled through the dense foliage, she’d finally heard the sound of human voices in her vicinity. 

She picked up her pace then, uncaring of the way the branches snagged on her clothes and skin, and made it out the other side to find her companions standing nearly exactly where she’d left them, though both Polnareff and Avdol had rejoined them by then. 

Polnareff was loudly declaring Avdol’s rebirth to the crowd of uninterested men, blissfully unaware that they’d known about it all along. She felt the anger inside of her surge up again as she’d finally caught up to them.

”You assholes have known Avdol was alive the entire time? And never once did it cross any of your deceitful minds to let me know? I’m most surprise at you, Kakyoin!” Polnareff cried, and she closed her eyes and took a breath to calm the urge to scream at them all right alongside him.

”I only found out the day after it all happened. But it was imperative to not let the enemy know. Since you have such a big mouth I suggested—“ Kakyoin cut himself off. “Pardon. What I meant to say is since it’s not easy for you to lie on command, I suggested we keep it a secret from you.”

”If you’d let the secret slip, Avdol wouldn’t have been able to recuperate in peace.” Jotaro added as indelicately as ever.

”We were planning to let you know the moment we knew he was safe, but… We didn’t think you’d run into him first.” Kakyoin continued, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Polnareff let their comments slide easily off his back, and recalled the man they’d encountered earlier — Avdol’s “father”, and scrambled to go and find him to tell him that his son was not, in fact, dead. But his bubble was quickly burst when the others let him know that the man had been Avdol all along.

”Say what? Then you were in on it from the very start? Everything that happened was a ruse you created?” Polnareff wailed. “You didn’t have to go that far! How dare you leave me out of the loop? I think that’s the cruelest thing you’ve ever done to me!” Polnareff was wallowing dramatically on the ground — an over the top display that she was sure was a cover for the genuine hurt he felt underneath it. Her heart twisted in her chest. 

“I apologize as well… But I had a very good reason for coming to this island in disguise.” Avdol added then, too, as Polnareff finally rose to his feet again.

”It was partially so the enemy wouldn’t find out, but I also had Avdol do some shopping for me while he was laying low.” Joseph explained.

”Since it was a very conspicuous acquisition, I disgusted myself as a wealthy arab gentlemen.” Avdol continued, and the group began to move to the edge of the beach, bags in tow. 

Both she and Polnareff drifted towards the back of the crowd, briefly out of sight of the others, and in a moment of impulsivity she’d never quite be able to explain, she reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a quick squeeze as she looked up at him. She tried to convey all the things she knew she’d never be able to say out loud to him with that one gesture, all of her apologies and comforts and regrets. And she let her touch slip away almost as quickly as it had appeared, taking a few long strides to join the others on the edges of the beach.

As their newest form of transportation rose up from the sea floor, massive and imposing, she nearly laughed. At least it wasn’t a penny farthing.

-

Miles below the sea and literally trapped in a cage, she felt her nerves fraying. It was nice inside the submarine — almost nice enough to forget where she really was. But she’d never truly be able to forget. She was inside of what felt, to her, like a metal coffin, surrounded by the ocean on all sides. It was claustrophobic in a way she’d never experienced before, and in the brief  “relaxation” that their new vehicle provided, she was primed and ready for another session of obsessing over every little thing that crossed her mind.

Not to mention, she was absolutely certain that Polnareff had been avoiding her. 

It wasn’t something that should have bothered her. That’s what she’d wanted, right? For him to leave her alone? But his avoidance in the wake of all that had transpired between them lately had left her feeling out of control. 

Each time she’d attempted to say anything to him, he’d found a reason to get out of it. Walked away or started talking to one of the others, and only once had she even been able to meet his gaze. She was starting to feel like she might throw up. 

Jotaro and Joseph had stepped out elsewhere in the vessel, leaving the four of them gathered around the table in the center of it. Kakyoin and Avdol had been engrossed in conversation across from them, and she’d prayed that it would finally be her chance to get a word through to him.

She moved her chair closer to his, and watched as he kept his gaze fixed straight ahead on the two men in front of him, like he hadn’t noticed she’d moved a muscle at all. 

“Polnareff,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Are— are you alright?” She asked, willing her voice to come out more normal than it felt. 

It almost looked like he flinched. Like the sound of her voice alone was bringing him physical pain, and she felt an incredibly painful twinge in her chest at the sight of it. She withdrew from him after that — moving her chair back to its previous position, afraid that her presence might earn another reaction like that. 

He turned to her, brightest, fakest smile on his face. “Of course I’m alright, I’m just happy that Avdol is back.” He said enthusiastically and entirely unconvincingly. All she could do was look at him, try to dig beneath whatever he was displaying on the surface to see what hid below, but his mask was unwavering. 

She gave up after that. Maybe it was what she deserved. It’s not as if she’d given him any reason in the past to believe that she was a friend. She couldn’t blame him for closing off to her, all of her actions up until that day had been wildly inconsistent and mostly hurtful. 

She didn’t have long to dwell on the confusing storm of feelings she was experiencing, as the next stand attack was upon them sooner than anyone could’ve anticipated, and worse than anything her wildest nightmares could have cooked up. 

-

The battle that had occurred under the sea had given him a welcome relief from her attempts at talking to him. Even with the reveal that Avdol had really been alive, he’d still stuck to his vow to keep her at a distance. Though she’d somehow been making it far more difficult than he expected. 

The way he felt upon learning that Avdol had still been alive was indescribable. Even though he uncovered the truth in an unimaginably horrible scenario, seeing his friend — his real friend, not some twisted imitation — alive and in the flesh brought a flood of happiness and relief so strong it was enough to nearly knock him unconscious. 

Finding out why the others had kept it from him was devastating to say the least, but their reasoning was sound. He couldn’t find it within himself to be truly upset over a consequence that was well warranted. He did have a big mouth. If the pressure were really put on, there’s no way he would’ve been able to keep it a secret, blowing Avdol’s cover and putting him in unnecessary danger. It was yet another area where his weakness shone through. 

Which drove him even more to protect the people he cared about. He’d been offered a miracle of a second chance, and he’d be damned if he screwed it up a second time. He wouldn’t give any of them —especially her— any reason to feel the need to self sacrifice or put themselves in harm's way for his sake. He hadn’t really believed that she would do something like that for him, but she was part of the team just like any of them, made to keep each other safe, so he couldn’t quite be sure. Regardless, he was going to give her reason not to. If she hated him, she’d have no reason to get close to him even in the name of teamwork. 

Not to mention, if his affections for her had become too obvious — unrequieted or not— it would still paint a target on her back simply for being a means to get through to him. He couldn’t let that happen. 

He’d known from the moment he made his decision that it would be difficult, but it was a burden he was willing to bear in the name of protecting her. He knew it would be hard to push down whatever foolish thoughts he’d had about a future with her. But never once did he expect that she would have done such a complete 180 in the way she interacted with him.

He suspected that his distance would have been a welcome change for her. He’d honestly believed she would’ve taken the relief and given him as many reasons as possible to continue with it. But she’d become almost unnervingly concerned about him ever since they’d reached that island. 

It was like some horrible challenge from God — a test of his strength, his resolve, his ability to keep his word. Seeing her looking for him on the beach while he hid like a coward had been bad enough. But when she grabbed his hand he was absolutely sure that his heart had stopped beating.

The way she looked at him for the brief, glorious moment that her hand had been within his was something he’d wanted to commemorate forever in a painting — if only he’d had the skill to do so. In that moment he had no doubt that he would have done anything she’d asked him to. 

But she was gone after that, standing alongside the others without even casting a glance over her shoulder. His hand felt so empty afterwards — like he had been missing a piece of himself all his life and he’d somehow never realized it before then. He felt like his hand was made to fit with hers. 

If that had been the end of it, maybe he would’ve been strong enough to persist. He could have explained it away somehow. Nothing more than comforting an ally to keep team morale high, or something. But she hadn’t stopped.

It felt like as soon as they’d settled in on the submarine, she was there every time he turned his head. If her presence before had been hard to ignore, now it was impossible. She’d gotten close enough to him in a few instances that he could smell her shampoo — just as sweet as he’d thought it would be.

She’d finally cornered him too close and too quickly for him to have been able to dodge it, and the sound of the voice he knew he couldn’t ignore for much longer felt like a slap in the face. He’d known immediately that she’d seen right through him — but she didn’t press it after that. She’d shrunk in on herself, gotten even more quiet than usual. He tried not to let it phase him — the discomfort of his lie would only linger so long, and eventually she’d realize she was right about him from the start and go back to the way she’d treated him back then. 

But the stand attack had given them both a distraction. More than just that, really, that fight had provided horrors enough to draw his focus entirely.

And at the end of it, as they’d all crawled onto the shores of Egypt, half-drowned and thoroughly exhausted, he’d been provided the perfect opportunity to confirm every suspicion about him that she’d ever had.

”You couldn’t pay me to do that again.” Mr. Joestar groaned, doubled over with his hands on his knees before his attention was drawn elsewhere — to the woman lying facedown in the sand. 

“I assume that’s Rose, the user of the High Priestess.” Avdol explained, and that’s when the thought had taken form within Polnareff’s mind.

”She doesn’t seem dangerous, should we just leave her?” Kakyoin suggested, but by then Polnareff already had other plans, racing up the sand to the woman on the ground.

”I think I’ll go see if she’s hot or not.” He announced to the others. “From the looks of it, she’s got a pretty nice body.” 

He would let her believe he was exactly the type of man she’d first thought. It was an easy fix — she’d already held such a low opinion of him, the few notches it had been raised recently could easily be bumped back down again. When he’d reached the knocked-out woman on the beach, however, his discomfort was real as he examined her. The damage that Jotaro had done to her stand was very clearly reflected on her real face.

”How’s it going over there, Polnareff?” Mr. Joestar asked, and Polnareff was quick to retreat from the unconscious woman.

”Nothing to see here, folks! No comment whatsoever! Trust me, you don’t wanna see her! Her teeth are all— eugh. There’s no point in looking!” He warned the others, and it was the truth. The woman was clearly in bad shape, though the fault was entirely her own.

As he returned to the others further down the shore, he’d caught a glimpse of her, her face painted with hurt, and it was almost enough to make him change his mind. But that was what he wanted, for her to keep her distance. He just hadn’t been prepared for how much pain it seemed to cause her.

Chapter Text

Her return to Egypt had brought back everything she’d feared. The crushing weight of anxiety, the feeling of constantly being watched, and the fresh burn of the memory of his hands against her. They’d been there barely a day and already she was looking over her shoulder at every opportunity, always feeling the phantom sensation of his body behind hers.

After they’d washed up on shore and had one incredibly cinematic moment on the beach they began their day. Out for breakfast, settling in, planning their next moves. All the while she felt herself spiraling out of control and trying desperately to keep her grip on her sanity. 

Then there was Polnareff. He had closed off to her completely, and if that wasn’t already bad enough, his show on the beach had been salt in the wound. The way she felt was beyond words. A mixture of pain, confusion, fear, anticipation, eagerness, dread. All of it too much to fit inside of her, too many things competing to hold the spotlight in her brain.

Polnareff dashing to the unconscious enemy stand user on the beach like he’d never seen a woman before in his life struck her in a way she hadn’t been ready for. It seemed like every time she thought she had gotten closer to him, started to finally understand him, he found a new way to infuriate her — to hurt her. 

She felt like an idiot for thinking that Polnareff had ever needed her comfort, for fooling herself into believing whatever tenderness he’d shown her had been anything more than an elaborate attempt to charm his way into her pants. But he’d revealed his true nature on the beach — only it had happened at the worst possible time. 

She didn’t understand why she felt so hurt by it. That’s what she’d thought about him all along. That he was a womanizer with a one track mind who saw her as nothing more than a piece of meat, that’s why she’d been so adamant about hating him. But she’d done it all again, the same thing she did every time — convinced herself that scraps of affection were equivalent to something more. At least Polnareff’s actions had shown some level of care, which was more than could be said about her past entanglements, but still it was all the same in the end. She supposed it didn’t matter much, not in the grand scheme of things. She’d have to get over her bruised ego and focus on what was actually important — like keeping it together in the face of her fracturing psyche while they drew closer and closer to the man who’d broken her in the first place.

Joseph had brought them all to the middle of the desert with little explanation. They’d filed out of their car and onto the sands, far from anything but cliffs and mountains and the dry horizon as far as the eye could see. It was hot, her clothes clung to her body and the sun beat down against her exposed skin. It wasn’t anything new — but once again, the old mans lack of clear communication made everything that much more nerve-wracking on top of her already feeling on edge.

A persistent whir was heard in the distance, growing louder by the second, which drew the groups attention. 

“They’ve arrived.” Joseph said easily, and a moment later a helicopter had appeared overhead — the blades chugging loudly and the force of it kicking up sand all around as it circled them.

“It’s a helicopter!” Polnareff announced in awe.

”Thanks for the update, captain obvious.” Kakyoin said flatly, and it was almost enough to make her laugh. 

“They’re here from the Speedwagon Foundation, and they’re looking for somewhere to land.” Joseph explained. 

“Speedwagon Foundation?” Jotaro echoed. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t they the group that's looking after mom back in Japan? They’re old friends of yours, right?”

“Yep, that’s them alright.” Joseph confirmed, raising his voice as the helicopter got closer, lowering steadily to the ground. The force of the winds it kicked up and the sand swirling through the air was enough to make her cough, shielding her nose and eyes as the massive vehicle settled in the sand. 

She could barely make out what the others were saying over the sound of the copter, but she was quite sure she’d heard the words “new ally” from Joseph, which caught her attention alongside the others. 

She moved closer to the rest of them — trying to make out what exactly was being discussed, and strained to listen as Avdol presented his concerns about whoever their newest addition was before Jotaro interjected.

“Not so fast, this new ally of ours… Are you saying that he’s a stand user too?” Jotaro asked, turning to the old man who confirmed his suspicions. 

”Yes, that’s right, and his stand is represented by the card known as The Fool.” 

“Wait, The fool?” Polnareff laughed. “Sounds like a pretty stupid card if you want my opinion.”

”You should count your blessings that he’s on our side. You can’t beat him.” Avdol said firmly, which quickly drew the ire of Polnareff. She thought it was strange how quick Polnareff was to start another useless argument with Avdol, considering all that they’d been through. But maybe that was the very reason why — Polnareff still held some hard feelings about the whole thing, and it was starting to spill out at random times. Then she thought that she had no reason to sit and analyze Polnareff’s motivations for anything anymore, and Kakyoin was quick to put a stop to the whole thing anyway. 

The helicopter had finally settled on the ground by then — the blades slowing to a stop while they all milled about, eager to find out exactly who was waiting for them inside. 

She watched the arrival of the Speedwagon employees carefully, listening to their conversation with Jotaro and Joseph which was filled with tense anticipation. The air of mystery was, unsurprisingly, broken by Polnareff — who marched up to the open doors of the helicopter smugly. 

“Hey, hey, cut it out! Come on, quit joking around!” Polnareff taunted as he stuck his head into the vehicle. “What’s the deal, is the guy really short or something? Come out come out wherever you are!” 

There was a choir of warnings from Avdol, Joseph, and the Speedwagon employees, but in his usual fashion, Polnareff ignored them. There was a stirring from inside the copter, and as Polnareff turned his head to see what it was, a little dog leapt out at incredible speed. He launched himself onto Polnareff’s shoulders, barking and growling and slobbering on the frenchman, who howled in terror all the while. 

“Don’t tell me this dog is—“ Jotaro asked, unable to even finish his sentence before Joseph confirmed his fears. 

”Mhm. Yes, this dog possesses the stand of The Fool. His name is Iggy, and he’s crazy about ripping chunks of hair out of peoples heads. To be honest with you, I’m not sure where he’s from. But Avdol found him in New York after none of the dog catchers could wrangle him, and it’s thanks to Avdol that he’s not roaming the streets now.” Joseph explained calmly while Polnareff shouted in the background, still at the mercy of the little dog. “Oh! There’s something that I probably should’ve mentioned. When he’s in the middle of ripping out someone’s hair he likes to uh—“ 

Joseph was cut off as Iggy, still clinging to Polnareff’s head, paused his attack just long enough to release a fart loud enough to hear all the way from where she stood. 

“Pass gas in their face… It’s a disgusting habit, really.” Joseph finished, as Iggy launched himself away from Polnareff while the frenchman tumbled dramatically to the ground. She couldn’t help the laugh that broke out of her then, though she covered her mouth quickly, shoulders shaking silently as she watched Polnareff summon his stand to battle the little dog. 

Polnareff was easily outmatched by Iggy’s stand — which had clearly shown its power in the very brief stand off. Iggy had Polnareff pinned to the ground again quickly — tearing at the mans hair until Avdol requested the dogs favorite snack from the Speedwagon employee. 

Iggy came bounding over to them, leaping through the air and tearing the entire package of gum from Avdol’s grip, carrying it away from them all in case anyone tried to take it from him.

He’d torn all of the coffee flavored gum out of the little box it came in — chewing happily away at it while he laid in the sand, and already she knew she was going to like him. Carefully, she made her way over to him, crouching beside him with her hand out. She kept her head turned away, though she watched from the corner of her eye as he sniffed her hand.

“Good boy,” She said quietly. “I liked that little number you did on Polnareff. I think you and I will get along quite nicely.” She smiled, and regardless of how immature it made her,  she felt quite satisfied about Iggy’s assault on the frenchman. And as if he could understand her perfectly, he let out one loud bark before jumping into her lap.

She scooped him up in her arms and carried him over to the helicopter where the others unloaded supplies, scratching at his ears while he chewed on his coffee flavored gum. 

“Damn that little menace, he completely ruined my picturesque hair!” Polnareff whined, frantically smoothing his hair back into place. “What are you doing with that mutt? You’re going to catch rabies!”   

Polnareff’s words caught her off guard. He’d barely said a word to her at all since they’d been on the submarine. But she only shrugged, clutching Iggy more tightly against her chest. If she could have commanded the dog to jump on him again, she absolutely would have. 

“Look sharp, everyone!” Joseph announced suddenly, waving a camera that the Speedwagon Foundation had provided.

They all crowded in for a picture, and she sat on the rocks sticking out from the sand beside the old man, Iggy on her lap. In that brief moment, she felt unexpectedly at peace. All of her worries had melted away for just a second as she sat on the sand with her friends. For just a millisecond, she wasn’t concerned about the horrible events that had brought them together, or any of the terrifying possibilities that the future held. She only enjoyed the feeling of being around the people she’d grown to care for so deeply in such a short amount of time, committing the moment to memory to look back on for years and years to come.

As the Polaroid developed, everyone gathered around to look at it. There was genuine happiness on everyone’s faces — even Jotaro had a glimmer of a smile on his lips, and she was pretty sure she hadn’t seen anything close to that in all the hours she’d spent with him thus far. It was a lovely photo, all of them illuminated by the desert sun, the kind of thing she’d keep in a frame on her wall. 

“Fantastic, this is the perfect memento.” Kakyoin said, before he passed the picture off to Jotaro. 

The serene moment was interrupted by Polnareff’s scream, and when she looked up to see what exactly was going on, she found Polnareff running for his life from Iggy, who was hot on his tail and nipping at his ankles. 

“Avdol! Hurry up and give the mutt the stupid gum!” Polnareff howled.

”Now why in the world would I do that, when the two of you are already such good friends, Polnareff?” Avdol said with a laugh, and she couldn’t help but laugh too. 

The Speedwagon employees packed up to set out not long after, the helicopter up and running again and kicking up dust and sand as the blades whirred. Joseph stood with the men who informed him of his daughters quickly declining condition. The devastating news brought with it a cloud of gloom that settled over everyone. She’d never met the woman, Holly, but she’d heard enough to know that she didn’t deserve any of the things she was going through. 

But it didn’t end there. The man explained that a spy from the foundation had witnessed nine people convening together at a place believed to be Dio’s hideout, and the spy had been killed shortly thereafter, along with the mansion being vacated. 

This new information spurred discussion about even more possible stand users, everyone equally shocked and horrified at the prospect of it. 

“Hold on. That would be impossible.” Kakyoin argued. “Other than Hol Horse’s stand The Emporer, the only tarot card that still remains is The World. I’ve been suspecting that one belongs to Dio… But now I’m not sure. Avdol?”

”I… I don’t know.” Avdol admitted. “I just cant wrap my head around this. Nine more stand users?” 

She swallowed. And then the devastating realization finally dawned on her. Her stand wasn’t a part of the major arcana like the others. Her stand was the Ace of Cups, part of a suit that went all the way up to fourteen — and the cups weren’t the only thing.

“Guys…” She said hesitantly. “I don’t want to be the one to go there… But my stand isn’t part of the major arcana either, mine is the Ace of Cups. When Dio found me—“ She cut herself off, his name tasting sour on her tongue, and swallowed before continuing. “He told me that my stand was the only representation of the minor arcana he’d been able to find so far. I don’t know much about tarot… But I know there’s cups, wands, pentacles, and swords. So even if there’s only one person to represent each of those, that's already three other people. If there’s a user for every card of the minor arcana, our enemy is much larger than any of us ever realized.” 

“She’s right… None of us had considered that possibility before…” Avdol said solemnly. “But for now, at least, we only have confirmation of another nine.” She almost regretted the way her words brought the mood down even further. But it was true — none of them had ever talked in depth about her stand before, or the dozens of possibilities of other people holding the same kind of card she did. 

“From what I can gather… It doesn’t seem like Dio’s head has been able to adjust to his new body yet. But that monster would never run from us. He’s far too conceited for something like that. He’ll do everything in his power to keep us out of Cairo.” Joseph said, which only served to confirm her worst fears. If there were in fact fifty five more stand users out there, no way Dio hadn’t managed to get at least some of them on his side.

There were several heavy revelations in a very short time, all of which weighed on her heavily. The idea that they’d only scratched the surface of what Dio had to throw at them was terrifying. But there was no use dwelling on things they had no way of learning yet — better to push forward and do as much as possible in what little time remained.

-

The group set out again shortly after the Speedwagon Foundation left. They barreled through the desert in the off-road vehicle, and for once she’d been lucky enough not to be crammed in between the others. She shared the back seat only with Iggy, who sat quietly chewing his gum while Polnareff whined from the trunk.

”Ugh, Mr. Joestar, why are you letting him get away with this? It’s not fair he gets to be in the backseat while we’re stuck in the trunk! And in case you didn’t know, it’s not exactly spacious back here! I’m gonna need a chiropractor!” Polnareff complained, and she sat smugly in her seat, looking lazily out the window and ignoring the feeling of eyes on the back of her head. 

“Look, I know it’s not ideal, but you’ll just have to wait until the gum runs out of flavor. When it does, throw another stick of gum into the trunk to lure him back there. Then you can all switch seats with him.” Joseph explained, and she saw from the corner of her eye as Polnareff reached out to try and grab the gum from Iggy, earning a snap at his hand in reply.

”Alright, alright! Calm down already fleabag! Damn, you’re annoying.” Polnareff retracted his hand quickly, slinking back into the trunk, and she smiled, reaching out to give Iggy a pat on the head. “He’d probably let you move him back here, if you tried.” Polnareff grumbled to her, and she couldn’t quite tell if he’d intended for her to hear it or not. 

“Oh, I’m sure. But I’m always stuck in the middle between you guys. Why would I give up my comfort for yours?” She asked sharply, and received only a huff from the backseat.

She supposed she should be grateful that Iggy’s presence had gotten the frenchman talking to her again, but she was still hurt, and really had no interest in saying much of anything to him if all he was going to do was complain to her. 

Her concerns about Polnareff were quickly dwarfed, however, when the old man gasped from behind the wheel. He slammed on the brakes hard enough to send the rear wheels a few feet off the ground, and sent their bodies flying forward. The sudden stop was especially detrimental to the three men in the trunk without seatbelts, all of them thudding against the backseat and falling onto each other. She’d at least had enough forethought to throw a hand out beside her, preventing Iggy from flying through the windshield. 

The car erupted with a choir of complaints, but all were silenced as Joseph pointed out the window toward the smoking remnants of the Speedwagon helicopter.

Everyone was out of the car in an instant, shouting at each other as they tried to put the pieces together from what little information the scene provided. 

“I’d bet my life it was attacked by an enemy stand.” Joseph offered, which was easily to believe given the horrific remains of the vehicle. 

“Over there, it’s the pilot!” Jotaro said, pointing towards the body of one of the men from before, his mangled corpse crushed beneath the body of the chopper. “He’s already dead…”

Her stomach lurched as she laid eyes on the scene before her — the massacred body of an innocent man, deep scratches in the metal wall he was trapped under. It was enough to make her nauseous — the kind of thing that would haunt her nightmares.

”Poor bastard…” Joseph muttered as the group moved towards the wreck. “Approach carefully. Whatever did this could still be hiding in there.”

Up close, things were far worse. She’d never been especially squeamish, but the whole thing was horrific and violent. She turned away from it, eyes shut tight and hand over her mouth as Jotaro investigated the body. 

“It’s water.” He said as he shifted the man’s body. She glanced back in time to see a small flood drip from the pilot’s open mouth, pooling in the sand. “There’s no way all that water is just from his mouth. It must be flowing from somewhere else. It must be from his lungs… and the fish would mean— he drowned in the desert. This is getting weirder and weirder.”

Her heart skipped a beat — drowned in the desert? Water? That sounded awfully similar to—

Polnareff’s voice cut her thoughts short, as he shouted to the rest of them that he’d found the other Speedwagon employee — and he was alive.

As they gathered around the frail man, parched and weak, what came next was quite possibly the most horrific thing she’d ever witnessed. As Joseph lifted a canteen to the man’s lips, water came spilling out — tearing the mans face clean off his body and leaving him lying in the sand. 

They all scattered, pressed against the ground as they tried to hide from whatever force they were up against, and she’d ended up crowded against Kakyoin and Polnareff, watching the canteen offered to the man lying alone in the sand, dripping blood instead of water.

”Polnareff, slice up the canteen, would you?” Kakyoin asked.

”Why me? Besides, didn’t you see what happened to the pilot? His entire head got sucked into that tiny little container!” Polnareff wailed. “Think about it! If I so much as poke a hole in that thing… No way! Why don’t you slice it up, Kakyoin? You’re closer anyhow! You can just use your Emerald Splash and call it a day can’t you?”

The two continued to argue — both adamant that they wouldn’t be touching the canteen, and she sighed.

”I’ll do it.” She said, manifesting Ace’s Cup, keeping her pressed close to the sand alongside her and tipping her chalice enough that a thin tendril of water crept across the sand. This would either be the perfect solution or blow up right in her face — her stand was made of water, too, and she reasoned that it would either be the perfect defense or completely useless. But there was only one way to find out.

Polnareff and Kakyoin continued to argue beside her, seemingly unaware of her present attempts at solving the issue, while the watery tentacle slithered towards the bottle, still dripping blood across from them.

Just as she was about to reach the vessel, she heard Polnareff cry out from beside her, and whipped her head to the side to find Kakyoin flat on his back — blood dripping from his face and two identical slashes over his eyes. 

She gasped, making Ace splash her chalice over the three of them, hoping to form some sort of shield or at least cause some sort of distraction — but she was too late. A hand of water had sprung up in front of Polnareff, preparing to attack as her shield hung uselessly in the air.

But just as the wet hand began to strike, the watch of the Speedwagon employee began to beep loudly — and the stand changed course, striking the dead man’s hand clean off. 

Polnareff was clutching Kakyoin’s unconscious body beside her, blood seeping steadily from his wounds, and across the way the others started to piece together the abilities of the stand they faced. A stand that attacked based off of sound.

”Get out of there!” Joseph bellowed, just as the stand geared up for another attack in their direction. “Hurry and get to the car!”

Polnareff scooped up Kakyoin and set off, her scrambling to her feet behind him as they raced across the seemingly endless expanse of desert. The stand was in hot pursuit behind them — getting faster and faster with each passing second, inches from their feet as they ran for their lives towards the others. Even with Polnareff bogged down by an entire extra body, she still struggled to keep up.

Suddenly, the snake of water arced through the air, coming down in a deadly precise beeline towards the back of Polnareff’s legs. In a moment of shining stupidity — or bravery, maybe— she launched herself sideways to guard Polnareff against the incoming attack. She hadn’t really been thinking about it in the moment. In the few seconds that passed between the stand rearing up to attack, and her throwing her body in front of it, she only considered that she wouldn’t have been strong enough to carry Kakyoin by herself the remaining way if Polnareff had been injured. 

The strike came down hard against her back instead of Polnareff’s ankles, slicing her skin open easily and hitting her with enough force that she crashed into him, sending all three of them headed towards the ground with the stand still at the ready for the next attack.

She felt the vines of hermit purple grab hold of her, pulling her the rest of the way until she landed safely on top of the car with the others. She was sure she heard Polnareff call her name, but by the time she’d reached safety, her head was starting to feel fuzzy.

She’d been laid out on the cars windshield alongside Kakyoin, and she could feel the warmth of her blood soaking her clothes. She hadn’t quite lost her grip on consciousness yet, but it was taking immense focus to stay tethered to reality. She’d been laid out on her stomach to keep the weight off her wound, which meant her range of view was limited.

”How are they doing?” She heard Polnareff ask, concern laced in his voice.

”Not good. From the looks of things, Kakyoin may have been blinded.” Avdol said, and then he said her name. “Her wound is deep, but not fatal. But we need to get going, they need to see doctors as soon as possible.”

”But if we try to move from this spot that stand will attack us.” Joseph added, and she finally found her voice enough to pipe up.

”I’ll be fine…” She muttered, well aware of the lie as she struggled to keep a grip on reality. “Just a scratch, it was my own fault. Just worry… about Kakyoin.”

She opened her eyes, and through the blurry vision she saw Polnareff hovering over her, a look on his face she’d never quite seen before. She thought maybe he was going to cry, and in her increasingly delirious state, she wondered why he looked so sad. Then she remembered Kakyoin was lying next to her — already unconscious and maybe permanently blind, and she let her eyes flutter closed again. She was starting to feel tired. 

Chapter Text

The hospital chair he sat in was stiff and dug into his back. He couldn’t get comfortable no matter what position he sat in. He’d gotten up several times and paced the room, looked out the window, watched her sleeping in the bed. The pit in his stomach felt like it was going to swallow him whole.

Why would she have done that? Thrown herself in front of him? He would have been fine — a cut on his legs was nothing compared to the wound that now marred the soft skin of her shoulders. She laid on her stomach in the hospital bed, and he could see where the bandages peeked out of the open back of the hospital gown. 

The nausea he felt had only grown in intensity since he saw her lying on the hood of the car out there in the desert. Her gaze had been distant as she reassured them she would be fine, her words slow and slightly slurred. He’d hung onto her unconscious body tight until they’d reached the hospital, gently cradling her like she was the most delicate flower.

That day had been harrowing. Everything they’d encountered before it felt like child’s play in comparison. A stand that could take out three of their fighters in one fell swoop? Things had looked more grim than anything that had come before. But they’d made it, mostly. 

He’d paced the waiting room endlessly as the doctors looked at her, his mind swimming with every horrible possibility. He’d already resigned himself to the fact that she would never know how he felt about her, it was better that way. But the idea that she may leave his orbit so soon, that he might be robbed of the chance to see her smile one last time. It was unthinkable. 

But the doctor had come out to speak with them, and brought good news for nearly everyone. Both hers and Avdol’s wounds had been severe, but they would recover from them relatively quickly. Kakyoin was another story, however. His recovery would be a much longer process.

She was still asleep when they were finally allowed in. The others hadn’t lingered for long — but he chose to stay behind as they checked into a hotel. Which was where he sat now, uncomfortably squished into a chair that was too small for him, waiting for her to wake up, absolutely sure that the most important thing in all the world was hearing her voice again.

As he looked out the window, into the lights of the city, he selfishly let himself imagine how things could have been different. If perhaps they’d met in another life, or long before his spiraled far out of his control. If, maybe, there was a universe in which they were together — one where his only concern was making her happy. A life where they lived peacefully, maybe with a few rugrats of their own running around. Where his beloved sister would come over for dinner, and the two of them would laugh and bond over their love of teasing him. A world where he’d been given the chance to properly court her, where he could charm his way into her heart like he’d wanted since the first moment he saw her. 

But that was not this world, and it never would be. 

The sound of the blankets shifting had drawn his attention, and when he looked over, he saw her stirring. He watched her expression grow tense before it softened, and her eyes opened. He watched her blink a few times, eyes adjusting to the room and consciousness slowly seeping into her brain. He’d all but raced to her, kneeling beside the bed and resisting the overpowering urge to wrap her in his arms and never ever let her go. 

-

As she started to wake up, her brain felt like pudding, and her body ached. When her eyes opened she struggled to make sense of exactly where she was, the room she found herself in was wholly unfamiliar, the only thing grounding her to reality was the fuzzy outline of Polnareff in the corner. When her eyes had adjusted, her view of her surroundings crisp but still utterly confusing, Polnareff had appeared at her side in an instant. 

As she settled her gaze on him, his eyes wide and full of worry, brows furrowed and his breathing stilted — it all came rushing back to her. She last recalled seeing that very same face in the desert, as she lay on the hood of the car beside a far worse off Kakyoin. This sent a jolt of adrenaline through her, pushing herself up from the bed on her elbows and ignoring the sting of pain that went through her body from the movement.

”Where’s Kakyoin?” She asked, flipping herself ungracefully over until she was seated and facing forward. Polnareff had hovered awkwardly around her, his hands hanging in the air while he watched helplessly as she maneuvered around the bed, like he was waiting for the moment when he’d have to reach out and steady her.

”Kakyoin is alright. He’s— he’s in the hospital too. He’s going to have to stay.” Polnareff explained, his hands only returning to his sides once she seemed stable enough in her seat. 

“How are the others? What happened?” She pressed, feeling suddenly guilty as she considered just how much more difficult her ill-advised decision had probably made things for the others. Her limp and unconscious body being dragged around uselessly while the others fought for their lives. 

“They’re fine. Avdol is here too, but he’s alright. He’ll be out as soon as you are.” That revelation had only made her feel guiltier. How much worse had things gotten when she went out of commission? Another fight where she skittered uselessly around. 

She was so wrapped up in her concern for the others and regret for her decisions she hadn’t even really processed the fact that Polnareff was in her hospital room. Just him. And he’d been lingering in her space since her eyes had opened, worry written all over his face and tiptoeing around her like she was made of glass. She looked up at him then, trying to pick apart whatever he was thinking.

”Why are you here?” She asked, as neutrally as she could possibly get her voice to sound. She didn’t want him to think that she didn’t want him there, because despite everything, she did. She was glad he was okay. That feeling in her stomach burned hotter when she considered, selfishly, that of all three of them that had been injured in that fight, he’d chosen to wait in her room. For her. 

Then she watched as his features fell flat, completely unreadable.

”I— I only wanted to make sure you were alright.” He said, emotionless, and took a step away from her. She was sure it would have hurt less if he’d slapped her across the face instead.

Then why stay, she wondered. Why come at all if he could have just as easily waited for a call from the hospital. Surely the doctors had already told him she was fine, just resting. Why sit in her room and scurry to her side when she woke up if all he wanted was to make sure she was alright? 

She didn’t know if it was whatever medication the hospital had given her, or her complicated mess of emotions making her lose sight of reality, but she found herself unable to bite back the words that were clawing their way out of her throat.

“What is your problem?” She asked sharply, much harsher than she intended. “Why have you been avoiding me?” Her voice had softened by the time she got the second part out, her frustration giving way to disappointment and hurt once again. 

She watched as surprise flickered across his features before falling flat again, brows furrowing as he turned away from her. 

“I’m not avoiding you.” He lied, and she wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him and scream at him until he told her the truth and gave her an answer to every confusing thing he’d ever made her wonder about. But she didn’t.

She took a deep breath, and she felt the all too familiar sting in her eyes. 

“You can tell me the truth, you know. I wouldn’t even be mad if you told me it was because you finally realized that I’m the kind of miserable and hateful person you can’t be bothered to waste your time on. But I just— I  want to know. Do you have any idea how confusing it is to sit here and think that despite it all I’m finally starting to understand you, only for you to immediately go and do something that makes me feel like I’m crazy?” She felt a laugh bubble up in her throat, the kind that could just have easily been a sob instead. “Every time I think I can get to you, you turn around and throw it in my face.”

She sat staring at him as he looked pointedly away from her, searching what little she could see of his face for some kind of answer. He didn’t say anything, and she could only watch as his eyes shut tightly, his hands balled into fists at his side. She wanted to get on her knees and beg him for an explanation, whatever combination of desperation and pain medication that was brewing inside of her making her entirely unconcerned with whatever kind of fool of herself she might make. But she didn’t.

 “I’m sorry.” He said finally, his voice coming out choked. She felt angry again. 

“That’s it?” She asked, incredulous. 

“It’s better this way. I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong idea.” His words came out far more even that time and all she wanted was to scream from the top of her lungs and make him explain why he had to be like everyone else even though he’d fooled her into thinking that maybe he could’ve been something different. But she didn’t.

Her lip quivered and tears pricked at her eyes, so she looked away, hanging her head as she stared at her shaking hands in her lap.

”You make me feel like such an idiot.” She said quietly, trying to cover up the quiver in her voice. “I think you should go.” She told him, even though she didn’t really want him to. And he didn’t say anything else, and she didn’t look at him, only listened to his footsteps and the sound of the door as she left.

When the door had closed behind him and she was sure that he was far enough away that he could no longer hear her, she let the sob that she’d been swallowing down for weeks tear out of her throat. She awkwardly and painfully maneuvered herself back to laying down on her stomach, clutching the pillow tightly against her and burying her face in it as she wailed.

Everything that she’d been pushing down finally spilled out, bubbling over in a loud and embarrassing meltdown. She cried and yelled until the pillow beneath her was soaked with a disgusting mixture of tears and snot and drool.

It wasn’t just Polnareff that she cried over. She cried over the stupid pain in her shoulders, she cried over the life she left behind that would be completely different when she returned to it, she cried over her uselessness in every fight, she cried over her confusing emotions and the way she never knew how to do anything but be terrible, she cried over all of the damage that Dio had done to her in the incredibly short period of time she spent with him. She let it all spill out as she lay alone in that hospital bed until there was nothing else that would come, and then she laid and stared at the wall until her eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. 

-

After Polnareff left her hospital room he stood outside and fought against every fiber of his being telling him to go back in and let her know all of it. How much she meant to him, how badly he wanted to pull her in and kiss her and never let her leave his side again, and why exactly he never could. 

He could hear her crying on the other side of the door and he stood and listened and fought with himself until he couldn’t bear it any longer, and he ran away like a coward just as he did every other time. She couldn’t know. She could never know how much she meant to him because he would never be able to protect her, just like he couldn’t protect Sherry.

Why did she have to go and get herself hurt? Why did she have to make things so much harder? If she’d just kept on hating him it would have been fine, he could have handled it. How was he supposed to handle this? He wished there was a way he could make her understand why it had to be this way. It wasn’t because she was a miserable and hateful person, he’d never see her that way. It was for her — it was all for her. He couldn’t let anything happen to her again. And if she hated him then she would never get any crazy ideas to throw herself in front of a stand to protect him ever again. 

He went alone to the hotel and into the room that Mr. Joestar had reserved for him, despite his adamance that he wouldn’t be leaving the hospital. He was grateful for it now, at least. 

The room was dark when he entered and he didn’t bother turning the lights on, he only kicked off his boots and crawled onto the bed, on top of the covers, and stared at the ceiling and thought about every point in which it had all gone wrong. 

He had always wanted to fall in love, always looked for the opportunity. He’d thrown himself at beautiful women countless times in the past to no avail. But it had always been different with her — she was different. She was bright and beautiful and tough and alluring and smart and creative and strong and every other thing he could have ever dreamed of.

Even in the impossibly short number of days he’d been lucky enough to find himself graced by her presence he’d fallen for her. Hard and fast, the way you saw in movies. And so quickly had it all slipped through his fingers. What a cruel twist of fate that she would gravitate towards him once he’d already resolved himself to pushing her away. 

He just laid alone in that room, thinking of every over universe where they might have had a chance, if they had been lucky enough to end up somewhere else where nothing bad had ever happened and they could exist together unencumbered by the weight of their pasts.

But those universes didn’t exist, and they never would. So it was a useless thing to think about, and it was useless to think about her at all when he could never have her. And yet, his thoughts always found their way back to her.