Best Laid Plans

1938: Bonding and Research

The last few days had been a flurry of activity. Joseph had returned, Speedwagon in tow. The two looked injured and unwell and Dio was hesitant to send them onto the next step in their journey.

The tale they spun him of men trapped in pillars and Nazi experiments was may have seemed far fetched to some, but at this point, what else was to be expected? Both Speedwagon and Joseph were insistent that they must go to Rome and meet Caesar Zeppeli.

They were all sitting in the lounge room, Joseph regaling Smokey with stories from his trip. Some of the stories made Dio twitch—tequila? Really?—but he mostly ignored the boys as he discussed the situation with Speedwagon.

"I believe that 'Lizbeth has mentioned Caesar before," Dio said. "If you two are successful in meeting him and enlisting his help there is a chance that he'll take Joseph to meet her. She is the only Hamon master in Europe, after all."

Speedwagon shrugged.

"She'll have to deal with that. We can't let these bastards take over the world, Dio."

Dio sighed, leaning back in his armchair.

"I know..." He took a sip of his wine. "You know, Speedwagon, I'm beginning to think this family is cursed."

Speedwagon sighed, also sipping his wine.

"I'd be inclined to agree with you, Dio. Every tale I've heard about the Joestars seems to end in tragedy."

Dio gazed across at Joseph, who was dramatically telling Smokey about his battle with Santana.

"For their sake, I hope we're wrong."

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

Barely three days after their return, Speedwagon and Joseph were off to Rome. Dio silently prayed that Joseph wouldn't embarrass himself terribly, but he knew it was futile—Joseph's special skill was making a fool of himself and being completely unaware of it.

In the few days that he'd been in New York, Speedwagon had helped Dio organise his study, pulling out any notes on the Stone Mask. It was unfortunate that Jonathan's notes had been lost in the fire—they were sure to be much more accurate than Dio's own notes. In fact, Dio suspected that the Joestar's library may have housed many of Lady Joestar's notes on the Mask and the other artifacts she had collected over the years.

So much had been lost when Jonathan had burnt the manor.

Speedwagon had also reached out through his foundation, searching for anything that related to the Pillar Men. A surprising amount of information was delivered to Dio—books on Mexican folklore and papers written by long-dead archeologists on the strange carving underneath the Colleseum. There were now piles of papers and books on his desk, sorted by what he thought most relevant. The stacks may have looked daunting to another, but Dio was able to make use of the hours that most used for sleeping. He would pore through the books in no time at all.

It was one of the greatest advantages to his immortal body, in Dio's opinion.

Together, Dio and Smokey spent the majority of their time in the study, both reading as if their lives depended on it. Of course, Smokey wasn't reading anything as dire as tales of people being absorbed into living stone.

The young man was quickly progressing through the books Dio had suggested to him. He was naturally intelligent and quickly moved away from the fiction on the shelves, finding old textbooks and reading them. At mealtimes, Smokey excitedly talked to Dio about everything he was reading about, showing remarkable understanding. Dio would be lying if he didn't see a version of himself in the boy—one who wasn't corrupted by his past.

Dio was happy to have the boy's company, but he had been staying at the townhouse for over a week now, without returning to wherever he'd been staying previously. He didn't want to pry, but to say he wasn't concerned would be lying. After all, if someone was looking for him, a week was a long time to be missing.

So, one night at dinner, he brought it up.

"Smokey, please don't take this the wrong way dear boy, but don't you have somewhere to return?"

When the young man looked at him blankly, he elaborated.

"Well, you've been staying here for almost two weeks. Not that I don't enjoy your company," he added hastily, "but surely you have someone you were staying with before all this? A family member, a friend?"

Smokey shrugged, looking down at his plate, not answering.

Dio frowned, concerned. He'd known the boy was a pick-pocket, but in his experience, even small-time pickpockets were part of something bigger—giving up the majority of their loot in exchange for a warm place to sleep. Dio also knew that pickpocketing without pledging loyalty to one group or another tended to end badly. He'd received enough beatings from men twice his size to know to stick with scamming people at chess.

Smokey continued to sullenly eat his food, stopping his excited stream of chatter about Greek history. Dio didn't push—he understood that it was a sensitive topic.

After a few minutes of silence, he spoke again.

"When I was eight, I started picking pockets. It only lasted a few months and I was rarely able to hold onto anything I stole. The London slums have plenty of gangs and none of them took kindly to my refusal to pledge allegiance."

Smokey was no longer pushing food around his plate and was paying full attention to Dio.

"When pickpocketing didn't turn a profit, I started scamming people at chess. I might not have been championship level, but I was better than the average scum that lurked in the local pubs.

"But I was lucky. The Joestars took me in, gave me a home, an education. And I know that I have no idea what you've gone through or what your story is. But I don't want anyone to go anywhere near the path I was going down."

"...I wasn't staying anywhere," Smokey confessed. "I moved around, I knew a few people, but mainly just the streets. And," he added quickly. "I wasn't associated with the mafia or anything. I know its kind of suspicious 'cause I knew that mafioso the other night, but I wasn't! I stayed here cause...you didn't seem like you were going to kick me out and Joseph's my friend." He paused for a bit. "But I understand if you want me to leave."

"Dear boy, of course, I don't want you to leave! It's been wonderful having you here! You're welcome to stay for as long as you'd like. I know Joseph has enjoyed having a friend so close by."

Despite Joseph's charisma, he'd never had any particularly close friends. It was nothing short of a miracle that on his first day in America, he'd made such a close friend. It was the one bright spot in this mess.

The two of them finished their dinner and Dio returned to the study to continue his research. Smokey, book in hand, retired for the night.

As Dio studied long into the night, he was glad that he could offer Smokey the help he'd been granted as a teen. He'd only known the boy for a short time, but he had grown fond of him. In fact, he thought of him as family.

Dio prayed that the Joestar curse wouldn't affect the boy.