Best Laid Plans

1881: Spilt Wine and Discovered Plots

After dinner, Dio went and knocked on the door of Jonathan’s room.

“Jonathan, its me. Can I come in?”

There was a muffled sound of acknowledgement and the door swung open.

“What do you need, Dio?” Jonathan’s eyes were red from crying and his face was still stained with tears. 

“Nothing, I just—” He swallowed thickly. “I just wanted to talk to you. To apologise.”

Jonathan frowned.

“Why do you have to apologise? I was the one who spilt the wine.”

“Yes, but, your father, I didn’t mean to,”

Jonathan waved his hand dismissively.

“It’s fine.” He frowned again, as though considering something, then stepped aside to let Dio into his room. “Come in. It’s not bedtime yet, so let’s talk for a while.”

Dio nodded and followed Jonathan into the room. They both moved to sit in the chairs by the empty fireplace. 

Dio sat cautiously in the armchair, unsure of Jonathan’s motivations. Usually, when people wanted to talk to him it wasn’t a good sign. Jonathan showed none of his own hesitations and sat comfortably in his own chair.

Jonathan leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, expression curious. Dio ignored all of his instincts telling him to run and met Jonathan’s eyes.

“Why do you flinch every time I go to pat you on the back?”

Dio felt his body freeze up. When Jonathan said he’d wanted to talk...well, he didn’t know what he expected but it certainly wasn’t this.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down enough to think of a proper answer. He looked over at Jonathan, hoping the boy would have noticed his distress and ask him something else, anything else! But Jonathan’s expression was thoughtful, chin still resting in his hand, as he watched Dio.

“There—there are lots of reasons, I suppose,” Dio said slowly, trying to judge Jonathan’s reactions. “The area of London I lived in wasn’t particularly, uh, upper class. I got into plenty of fights.” Jonathan narrowed his eyes at that but didn’t say anything.Dio took a breath and continued.

“And my father, Dario,” He felt his lips curl in distaste at having to say that bastard’s name. “He…he wasn’t a good man. Not like your father.”

Jonathan looked sad at this.

“I’m sorry. It’s obviously painful for you to talk about it.” Then he smiled. “Now it’s your turn to ask me a question!”

Dio blinked. His…turn?

“Oh right, of course. Hmm…” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What do you want to do when you’re older?” 

It was a boring question he knew, but if he could keep the topic away from his past anything was fine.

“Huh, I guess I’ve never really thought about it…maybe I’ll become an archeologist, travel the world just like my mother!” He smiled broadly.

“Was your mother an archeologist?” Dio asked cautiously. Dead mothers were always a sensitive topic and...he didn’t want to make Jonathan uncomfortable.

Huh. Dio noted that thought and promptly filed it in the ‘deal with later’ section in his brain.

“No, she just travelled a lot. Many of the objects on display around the house are from her travels! Like that stone mask in the entryway! Father told me that it was from South America!” Jonathan was gesturing wildly with his hands, an excited smile on his face. “One day, I’d like to have things like that to display.” He tilted his head and smiled at Dio.