Best Laid Plans

1888: It's A Long Way To London Town

Jonathan ran down the central staircase of Joestar Mansion, his footsteps echoing loudly. He passed Erina on the stairs but barely registered her presence, his focus on the figure that had just stepped out of the front door, dressed in a top hat and feathered cloak.

He rushed to the front door, seconds behind Dio, pushing it open before it could properly close. The snow was falling thickly, the night almost too dark to see the carriage carrying Dio clatter down the drive.

I’m too late. Jonathan stood, staring at the carriage before he snapped back to reality. There was only one place that Dio would have the contacts to get that poison; London. 

Jonathan turned and marched back inside. He was going to find Dio and get to the bottom of this mess. 

Dio, you’d better hope that this is all just some big understanding.

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The carriage rumbled down the road away from Joestar Mansion, its single passenger nervously drumming his fingers against the windowsill. Dio tried to settle into the carriage—placing his hat beside him, brushing the snow from his cloak and hat—but thoughts of his foster father lying in bed, dying slowly from poison haunted him.

Dio knew what that poison could do—how slowly it killed, causing its victim pain. Seven years ago, he had not hesitated in using it against Dario and had even considered using it against Lord Joestar. But that was before he’d met the Joestar’s. They were the first people to show him kindness since his mother was killed, and Dio loved them the way he’d loved her. Lord Joestar had taken in the young, angry, traumatised Dio—a boy who had killed his family—and cared for him, giving him a new family, a new life, new reasons to live. Dio was not going to let Lord Joestar—his true father, more than Dario had ever been—die at the hands of Erina Pendleton.

Not when he could do something to stop it.

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Jonathan had kindly given Erina a ride back to town on his way to London when she had said she needed to get some more medical supplies. She’d barely waited until his carriage was out of sight before she’d gotten her father’s driver to take her to London. Now, dressed in inconspicuous clothing, she sat in the carriage admiring the Stone Mask.

In Erina’s experience, Jonathan only thought about four things: His family, his schoolwork, rugby, and this. During the many afternoons they spent together, Jonathan would often talk about the strange mask his mother had bought and the strange way it reacted to blood. She’d read through his notes and agreed with him—it was clearly some type of execution method. Now, with Lord Joestar on his deathbed and Jonathan practically engaged to her, Erina had the perfect opportunity to take down Dio.

Dio would die, Erina promised herself. She’d test the mask on some random lowlifes, so his death didn’t look out of place. The police—already on edge—would chalk it up to one of the many murderer’s wandering London’s streets. Then, Erina would return to Joestar Mansion, administer the final dose of poison, and marry Jonathan. When she was pregnant with his child, she’d kill him the same way she’d kill Dio. With Jonathan’s intense study of the mask, it would be a plausible death too. No suspicion would fall on her.

Smiling, Erina flipped the mask over in her hands, tracing the strange patterns on its face.

Soon, soon, everything she had planned would fall into place.

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Jonathan had lost Dio’s carriage fairly early on. The snow had eased up—becoming more like rain the closer he got to London—but the night was still dark. On the horizon, Jonathan could see the lights of London brightening the sky. The detour to drop Erina at her father’s hospital had cost him precious time, but he could never refuse a request from her.

They had grown close after her return from India. Even when she was busy at the hospital, she always made time to see him, and he visited her every day. With his father’s illness—and her stay at the mansion—he saw her more often than he saw Dio. Every spare moment was spent in her company and Jonathan could feel his love for her growing every day.

He’d been hesitant to bring it up with his father, but his worries had been assuaged when his father had told Jonathan that he greatly approved of his relationship with Erina and encouraged him to marry her. Jonathan hadn’t needed much urging, but he decided to wait before mentioning it to Erina. But Jonathan knew that one day, he would marry Erina Pendleton.

When he’d said told Dio, Dio’s face went blank—the way it used to when they were twelve and Dio was still afraid of even a pat on the back—before he’d wished him luck. Jonathan had wanted to ask what was wrong, but something told him he was better off not knowing. Now, he’d never find out.

Dio had poisoned Dario—not that that scum had deserved living, in Jonathan’s opinion—and now, all the signs pointed to him doing the same to Jonathan’s father.

Jonathan didn’t want to believe it. Maybe the Dio of seven years ago—the broken boy who’d killed his father, kicked puppies and hated the world and everything in it—Jonathan would have believed it was that boy.

But the Dio of now? The Dio who’d spent the last seven years studying to become a lawyer to help people? The Dio who was the star of the Academy rugby team, the Dio Jonathan loved as a brother? It hurt Jonathan’s heart to think that that Dio would try to kill his father.

But, all of the signs said otherwise and Jonathan couldn’t ignore that.

He sighed, leaning his head against the window as the carriage rumbled down the road towards the bright spot that was London.