Best Laid Plans

1938: Reading and Phone Calls

In the days after Joseph's departure to Mexico, Dio kept himself busy re-reading all the papers and files he had that related to the Stone Masks. Smokey was a great help—emptying packing boxes full of books and placing them on the shelves, handing Dio the titles he was looking for with ease. The young man's help was greatly appreciated.

Amongst Dio's collection of books—built up over the last 50 years—were many books that caught Smokey's interest.

"You're welcome to any of these whenever you wish," Dio informed him, placing a carefully bound folder on the study's desk. The study was on the second floor of the house, the walls covered with bookshelves from ceiling to floor, except for a window facing out onto the busy New York street.

"Thank you Mr Joestar, but..." Smokey inspected the first page of a book on American law. "...I think these are a bit above my reading level."

Dio frowned. Smokey was the same age as Joseph, surely he had attended some form of education...?

Oh. Right.

American's, Dio thought bitterly.

"Not to worry," Dio assured him. "I didn't really learn to read until I was a teen. I'd be happy to teach you if you like."

"Really?"

"Of course. I taught Joseph and his father, it would be a simple matter to help you."

Smokey shook his head.

"No, I meant about not learning to read until you were a teen."

Dio turned to the boy in surprise.

"You don't know? I assumed Joseph and his big mouth would have told you everything about me by now." Dio shook his head fondly and began to untie the folder.

"I grew up in the London slums. My mother was a seamstress and my father was a good-for-nothing drunkard. By some twist of fate, he had managed to earn a favour from the local lord. Just before he died, he called in the favour and after his death, I was taken in by Lord Joestar and his family."

Dio rifled through the papers, sorting them into piles on the desk.

"I didn't know how to do anything properly before then."

✩ - - - ✩ - - - ✩ - - - ✩ - - - ✩ - - - ✩

It took Dio the better part of that first day, trying to think of a way to tell Lizabeth what had happened.

"Oh yes, hello, my darling daughter-in-law, your son just helped obliterate your adoptive father because he killed our mutual friend" didn't really seem like a good way to break the news.

Dio sighed, scratching out a line he'd written on the page before him. He was attempting to write a sort of script he supposed, to help him explain the situation concisely, without being...uncaring.

He stared at the paper for many hours, adding and subtracting things. So what if he was simply crossing things out to write them again—it had to be perfect. He was snapped out of his procrastination by the hall phone ringing.

Startled, he looked up and could see that, outside, the moon had risen, bathing the office in its silvery light.

He blinked, surprised.

The hall phone continued to ring—extremely loud to Dio's sensitive hearing.

He quickly moved to answer it before it woke Smokey, who was sleeping in the guest room.

"Joestar residence, Dio Joestar speaking."

"Dio!" Elizabeth's voice crackled through the line. "It's been two days, I thought..." She trailed off and Dio grimaced slightly. He probably should have called earlier. She was probably worried sick about Joseph.

"I apologise, Lizabeth. I should have called sooner." Dio sighed. "Straizo...has been taken care of. He...destroyed himself with his Hamon rather than lose in a fight."

"His Hamon!? Are you alright?"

"Me? Ah. No, no, I'm fine. I wasn't near him at the time. No, Joseph was the one to fight him. I only arrived for the final moments of the fight."

"Joseph? My Joseph? Dio..." her voice grew dark. "Dio, I specifically left to keep him away from Hamon and this family's shit."

Dio sighed.

"I am aware of that Lizabeth. But, the boy has considerable Hamon talent—even untrained. And...if the Masks are making an appearance again, I don't think we'll be able to keep him out of it. He's headstrong and reckless, but he has a good heart. If he feels that the world is in danger, he'll get himself involved without a second thought to your wishes."

There was a pause over the phone.

"What about Speedwagon? Did they find his body?"

"Joseph is looking for him now. He left this morning for Mexico. I would have gone myself but—"

"Absolutely not!" Elizabeth passionately cut in. "Mexico, Dio? You'd get caught out in the sun!"

Dio smiled wryly.

"That's exactly what Joseph said."

"Hmph, some of my good sense made it into the Joestar blood then. Good. Goodbye Dio, don't forget to update me on the situation this time."

She hung up and Dio couldn't help but smile.

Even without her influence, Joseph was so similar to how he remembered Lizabeth at his age.

✩ - - - ✩ - - - ✩ - - - ✩ - - - ✩ - - - ✩

Logically, Dio knew that travelling from New York to Mexico would take several days—during which he wouldn't be able to contact Joseph. That didn't make him any less worried. Several times already he had woken in a cold sweat or frozen suddenly, knowing—thanks to some sixth sense—that Joseph was doing something foolish.

To prevent himself from worrying himself to death (if it was possible, Dio was sure Joseph would be the cause), Dio spent his time helping Smokey with his reading and organising the study.

Smokey was a surprisingly capable reader, though he appeared to be mostly self-taught. Dio had quickly discovered that the majority of the books in his study were far beyond the boy's capabilities and had begun digging through the boxes to find things that were of a more appropriate reading level.

Sherlock Holmes was proving slightly difficult but was being thoroughly enjoyed. The Wizard of Oz had been enjoyed as well but had almost been too easy. However, Dio was not too concerned about how easy or difficult the boy found the reading—as long as he was enjoying it.

"I believe that these are the last of the ones that I would consider 'easy'," Dio said, slotting Peter Pan onto one of the shelves. "I do have more fiction, but it is up to you whether you attempt to read them."

"Thank you, Mr Joestar." Smokey inspected the shelf and ran his finger along the spines of the books. "You have quite a large collection...I wonder if I'll be able to read even half of these..."

Dio placed his hand on Smokey's shoulder.

"I am sure that you will be able to read all of them."