Work Text:
Jonathan smiled as he grabbed the glass from Bucciarati’s hands. The blue-haired man was seated on the couch next to his wife, Erina. Sitting across from him was his son, Giorno, along with two of his friends.
It was the first time he had gotten the privilege of seeing Giorno. The boy had undergone thorough background checks through the Speedwagon foundation, due to his relation to Dio. Thankfully he had passed all checks with flying colors.
(They had ignored the whole mafia business-if they didn’t talk about it it wasn’t there. Or at least, that's the alibi they were going by.)
It was honestly quite nice to see Giorno. Jonathan was a family man through and through, despite all of the issues him and his brother had in the past. The man, through years of hard work, had learned to not only accept his family, but to take pride in them.
The Joestar family was full of oddities, but Jonathan learned that ostracization only resulted in murder.
(maybe some other things too, but the one Jonathan was most concerned about was murder)
And really, from what Jonathan had seen, Giorno was quite a pleasant young boy. He was extremely intellectual, passionate, and driven. Part of Jonathan’s mind was nervous at how ambitious Giorno seemed, making an instant comparison to Dio, but Jonathan ignored the little voice.
Giorno wasn’t like Dio. Giorno was ambitious, yes, but he was also an impressionable young boy with a strong moral compass-one that Jonathan trusted.
Jonathan would not let himself boil Giorno down to “Dio’s son”. It would be unfair to Giorno on so many levels. It was obvious the boy had almost no contact or knowledge of Dio before these past couple months-in fact, from what Jonathan had gathered, Dio had not even stayed around to meet Giorno.
Despite Jonathan’s unwillingness to compare Giorno to Dio, there were some similarities he couldn’t help but notice. These ones did not strike fear into Jonathan’s heart-no, these caused concern to erupt in his chest.
Giorno acted quite similar to Dio when he first came to the mansion.
The boy flinched at almost all loud noises. Not nearly exaggerated enough to be outright noticeable, but still there. It was obvious Giorno tried to prevent his body from moving out of irrational fear, but the boy failed more often than not.
Additionally, Giorno was...thin. It wasn’t garishly obvious, it didn’t glare out to Jonathan like a sore thumb, but it was there.
Dio, when he had first arrived at the mansion, was so thin it could almost be called malnourished. Despite the large amounts of food offered to him, Dio gained a minimal amount of weight. After about a year, Dio had gained just enough weight for people to stop pointing it out with gaping mouths and pitying glances.
It became obvious to Jonathan that Giorno had not grown up in the best house. Not only in his physical appearance, but his behavior. The boy naturally hunched in on himself, constantly attempting to make himself the smallest in the room. He lowered his voice, especially when there was yelling surrounding him.
And, well, Jonathan was in the business of helping his family. But throughout the years he had learned a very valuable skill called tact.
So, when Giorno’s phone rang with an unknown number, Jonathan thought nothing of it. But when Abbacchio answered and put it on speaker, a woman's voice permeated through the room. And upon hearing the voice, a flash of horrifying fear struck Giorno’s face.
That was when Jonathan’s stomach dropped and his throat filled up with cement. Because Dio had the same reaction whenever someone brought up his father in the slightest, and the implications of that really didn’t settle Jonathan in the slightest.
The woman proceeded to degrade Giorno. She used common manipulation tactics, insulting Giorno only to follow right up with praise and guilt-tripping. The sweet saccharine tone she was using only nauseated everyone in the room.
Jonathan did not pay attention to the voice. She didn’t deserve his attention. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on Giorno’s frozen figure.
After at least two minutes, Mista grabbed the phone out of Abbacchio’s hand and threw it against the wall. Jonathan couldn’t bring himself to scold the boy.
Just as Jonathan turned to comfort Giorno, he found the boy was gone. Both him and Bucciarati stood up at the same time, and the other man shook his head and gestured for Jonathan to go forwards.
Murmuring a quiet thank you, Jonathan surged forwards. He knew exactly where the boy had gone.
The garden. Jonathan had learned very early on, through exchanging multiple letters, was Giorno’s safe space. It was peaceful, and the boy obviously found solace in the quiet comfort of his inanimate friends.
Quieting his steps, Jonathan slowly approached the boy hunched over on the bench. It was raining quite hard, but Jonathan paid no attention to his slowly dampening clothes. As he got closer he could see Giorno’s shoulders shake with silent sobs.
Sighing softly, Jonathan sat himself next to Giorno. He didn’t speak for a while, allowing Giorno to gather himself while he basked in the beauty of the dark skies.
Then, a shaky voice made itself known.
“Do you hate me?”
Jonathan felt an intense sense of deja vu. He had this conversation once before, with a man with the same shade of hair and the same relentless ambitions.
“Why would I hate you?”
The boy’s breath hitched, and Jonathan heard the telltale sounds of shoes tapping against wet packed dirt.
“I’m weak.” Giorno scoffed at his own trembling voice. “I’m imperfect and I’m weak.”
Jonathan simply smiled. Giorno raised his head to stare at Jonathan, confused.
“Why are you smiling?”
His grin widened.
“You are far from weak. Imperfection is a piece of becoming perfect, understand? Walk with me, Giorno. Can I tell you about a man named Dio Brando?”
Giorno perked up.
“My-my father? Wasn’t he a horrible person? Killed...many people. Or at least, that's what i’ve heard.”
Jonathan sighed yet again. He stood up, and Giorno stood next to him.
“Well, he wasn’t all bad. I prefer to remember better times-I beat him at soccer once. And we were on the football team together.”
“He played football?”
“Yeah. Why don’t we go back inside and I can tell you some stories? Erina has some, too. She was quite the spitfire when we were younger.”
Giorno reminded Jonathan of Dio in many ways. Some good, some bad. But Jonathan was a family man, through and through, and he would be damned if he abandoned Giorno now.
(plus, its not like erina would let him leave. She was determined to teach narancia the secrets of baking, and once erina put her mind to something, it was impossible to deter her.)