sperare
Masterlist.
cw: sickness, mentions to meds, pregnancy mentions, mentions to past childhood trauma.
collab with the lovely @softlimefluff!! ty for your patience and care, aribaby uwu
Knocking on the studio door, Ari doesn't wait for a response and walks right in, phone clutched tightly in her palm. Rohan sighs in frustration, pulling his pen away from the panel he’s inking and glares over. Frowning, Ari waits by the door, cheeks puffy and eyes red.
“I hate to barge in, Han, but there’s an emergency.”
Taking his glasses off, Rohan rubs his hands over his face, pushing his headband up.
“What. What’s wrong?”
“The. Twins...”
Ari grips her phone tight again, sniffing back her runny nose. “They’re starting to go through the stand virus. Lena and Gio asked if Dr. Louis would be willing to come consult, but...”
Taking a few steps forward, Ari sits on the floor next to her husband, slumping up against his desk and looking up at him. “I think we need to be there. We would want the same thing if…” She looks towards the studio door into the hallway. “When Ellie goes through it too.”
Rohan puts a hand on top of her head, petting gently. “Is it that bad?”
She nods, looking back at him. “They’re feverish. Not waking up much.” Ari pauses, tears welling up. “Lena’s really worried about them. So am I…” Small, warm tears finally fall down her cheeks and Rohan catches one with his finger, rubbing over her cheek.
“Alright. I’ll check in with Izumi and see if I can get time off. I already have two weeks in advance prepared since I got time off for Ellie’s birth. I can use those, and if GioGio and Lena have a desk I could work there.”
“Can you ask for time off? Please... We can do research there or something, but I think you should leave work at home for a few weeks.”
Rohan balks at first, ready to protest and list all the reasons he could keep working and that it’s important to set a good example, before Ari interrupts his thoughts.
“You rarely ask for it. No one would blame you since it’s an emergency. And I’ll still be getting paid for working with the Foundation. I’m sure Gio will accommodate us too. We haven’t had a vacation for a while.”
Sighing, Rohan nods. “Alright. You win, Ari.” Lifting his arms up in a stretch, Rohan’s stomach peeks out, then disappears back under the fabric. “I’ll get everything settled with the manga then get packing. Any word on tickets?”
“I’ll call the main SPW branch and let them know about the situation. See if I can get permission for leave and tickets for us. I’ll have to make sure our branch has everything set before we leave.”
Rohan chuckles. “I forget how much we’re part of this town until we have to leave…”
Ari smiles back. “You’re right. Easy to take for granted.” Standing, she leans down to steal a kiss and wraps her arms around his neck. “We’ll have to get Ellie ready too. Her first big trip.”
“I didn’t even think of that. We missed the comic convention in France and traveling for Christmas last year… Big girl.”
“At least she has a passport already!”
“She does. We’ll have to make sure she’s dressed comfy for the flight. And bring chimera-san. She cries without him.”
“I’ll make sure, babe. Maybe we should bring our Halloween stuff just in case we stay a while?? When the boys are better all the kids could wear their costumes together.”
Looking at the date on his smart watch, Rohan nodded. “I know Tomoko wanted to take her out with us, but we can always do something when we get back.”
“Right. I’ll get started.” Stealing one more kiss, Ari finds Sunnie’s number on her phone, starting a call to get everything rolling.
***
Golden rays filtering through the window in the hall and reflecting the window's frame in the floor of the twins bedroom, silence and sunset come together.
The Giovanna household remains quiet, haunted by tension and waves of distortion in the environment —halls that stretch like rubber, doors that double their size, gardens that become mazes— as the first twenty-four hours of stand fever go by, keeping the two little boys in bed.
Standing from the chair at the other side of the room, Dr. Bocelli Enzo sighs, feeling his bones hurt and his spine scream for rest: still, holding onto his cane, he makes his way over slower than usual, eyes glued to the floor.
Reaching Jovi's side, his hand reaches out, softly landing on the skin of his forehead. There, the temperature he can feel seems the same as a few hours ago: and pressing his lips, he finally looks up into the monitor, feeling his heart sink inside his chest.
Reaching out to Dante, he repeats the motion —and after getting the same result, he sighs again, closing his eyes as he speaks out loud, intending to let the boys' parents know of the critical situation. “I'm afraid we haven't had any significant process.”
When silence is all he gets, Bocelli's eyes snap open and his heart races —looking back, the couple remains sitting in the couch: Giorno's arm still behind her shoulders and her head laying against his chest, but now Giorno's head is thrown back against the backrest and Lena's hiding into his chest, both asleep.
Overlooking the sight, Bocelli presses his lips, turning to one of Type O Negative's nurses. The small green being shrugs but does point back at the monitor.
Eyes scanning over the vitals displayed there, Bocelli hums after a moment, whispering to himself. “Heart rate normal—” he then turns back to the nurse, “Any signs of organ failure, shock…?”
Forming an 'x' with its little arms, the nurse shakes its head. Seeing this, Bocelli opens his mouth to reply when someone stands by the door.
“Dr. Bocelli, Arroyo from the SPW Guadalajara branch sent someone.” The gunslinger Guido Mista shifts his weight from one foot to another, sealing his mouth with a gesture once he realizes of the sleeping couple. With big eyes, he stands there, watching Bocelli while he thinks, nodding after a moment.
“Lena asked for support. Where are they?”
“Uhm,” scratching the back of his head, Mista smiles nervously. “Akashi's a bit paranoid, he doesn't want to let them in unless the bosses or you are there.”
A grunt resounds through the silence. Shifting, Giorno's neck cracks right as he straightens his position, moving from under Lena's body and, after he's sure she's comfortable, he rises to his full height, turning to Mista.
“Let’s go.”
Nodding, Mista turns around, waiting for him in the hall. Coming to a stop beside him, Giorno reaches out, setting his hand on Bocelli's shoulder. “She asked for someone to help you with this. We know you need rest, so… I'll make sure to bring them over as soon as possible.”
Bocelli smiles —a smile so soft and tired it might be his soul the one smiling at Giorno. His face, though full of wrinkles and liver spots, keeps that peaceful aura Bocelli Enzo carries with himself. “Don't worry, son.”
Giorno's lips curl up into a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes nor makes his dimples stand out.
Leaving the room, he trails behind Mista, who keeps his guard up as they walk downstairs and cross the main garden that leads to the main doors —huge and imposing, the two doors remain closed before the SPW truck outside. There, two men wait, furrowed eyebrows and confused looks thrown his way.
Stopping beside Akashi, and knowing this is the Speedwagon Foundation waiting to be let in, Giorno looks back at the pink haired man, eyes hard and cold as stone —a silent question, demanding and equally annoyed.
Akashi looks back, a grin spreading through his features. Shrugging, the hand that had been resting against his katana raises up to show the keys, “I get it, I get it, let them in.”
Walking forward, Akashi fiddles with the keys for a moment —then, as he holds one of the doors open, Dr. Joshua López comes in, approaching Giorno.
“Good evening, Don Giovanna. Director Arroyo sent me here to help with your sons' case. I was not informed of all the details, but I'm grateful for your trust.” offering a handshake, Dr. López smiles, all formality and politics —the trembling of his hand doesn't go unnoticed by Giorno, who takes his hand in a firm handshake.
“Yes, Dr. Bocelli will give you the details.”
Nodding, Giorno looks back at Mista. “Take Dr. López there,” then, turning to the SPW foundation worker, Giorno motions forward. “Need a break?”
The man shakes his head, retrieving the truck keys from his cargo pants, “I’m okay. I was ordered to wait until he was allowed to come in.”
Waiting until the engine starts and the truck leaves, Giorno gestures back at Akashi. As the swordsman closes the doors and goes back to his position Giorno turns around, looking back over his shoulder: “Don't make me come here again. You know your orders. Next time someone comes in, ask Fugo. He's in charge for a reason.”
Coming back into the mansion followed by Westwood, Giorno's thoughts drift to the report about Dr. López: born in Mexico City, he completed his medical degree in the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, joining the SPW Foundation right after. His motives were still a mystery, but according to Fugo, he had a vast experience.
If his wife trusted Director Arroyo and Fugo had already confirmed he could be helpful, then all Giorno could do was trust and hope.
***
The sun dies in the horizon, bringing the moon and the stars along —as the dark skies settle down for the night, Giorno stands up from the couch, glance lost somewhere in the garden outside.
Setting his eyes on Akashi and Abel as they keep their positions by the front doors, the Don doesn't look back: only a whisper leaves his lips. “Lena, you should go to bed. It's getting late.”
Looking back, Lena shakes her head softly even if Giorno's not looking, eyes closing slowly, fighting back the sleep —running a hand through Jovi's hair, she finally mumbles back. “I can't go to sleep knowing they're… Like this.”
Watching the muscles of his back tense upon her words, she hums, slowly standing up and walking up to him, her arms slide around his middle. As she leans her head between his shoulder blades and presses a kiss there, Giorno relaxes, hands coming to rest on his wife's arms.
“I know.” he whispers, “But… I won't move from this room. I will make sure they're safe.”
She steps back and he sighs upon the loss of her warmth —circling him, Lena stops before her husband, soft eyes and pink cheeks. “I know," she quotes him, smiling oh so exhausted, “I know you are the type of man to set the world on fire for us. But… I'm just so worried.”
Reaching a hand out, his palm cups her jaw, letting his thumb rub over the tattoo on her neck, “They will make it, love. They need time, like we all do.”
Leaning into his touch, she twists her head to kiss his palm, watching in delight how his eyes light up. “Just like you need time to rest.”
“Well,” he smiles, a smile so small that doesn't light up his whole face, but does show the tiniest of peace. “You're the one pregnant. You need the sleep more than I do.”
Shaking her head with a soft chuckle, she finally gives in: “Alright, but promise you will take a nap in the morning.”
Nodding, Giorno chuckles, soft and deep —laced with hope. Hope for a better morning where the sun shines and his sons start running around the house again, painting the walls and doodling on his books.
“Of course, Lena.”
Leaning down to receive her kiss, he sighs against her lips, letting her wrap him up in her arms and sway him from side to side. When she leaves and he sits in the bed, his hand reaches out to Dante, letting his palm cup the infant's face.
The door opens —and the steps that resound through the silent and dark room make him look back, tense and ready to move.
“Uhm, sorry Don Giovanna. I need to take their vitals.” Standing by the door, clutching his aneroid sphygmomanometer and stethoscope, Dr. López gulps down forcefully.
Nodding, Giorno stands up, crossing his arms under his chest. As Dr. López comes in, he watches over his movements —the trembling of his hands does not go unnoticed by him: in the end, he knows why. Víctor Arroyo had met Lena back when she was still a student: back then, the rumors of their relationship had spread like a wildfire.
He could assume Arroyo had warned Dr. López about him and, counting down Akashi's behavior, the poor man must be scared.
Leaning against the wall by the window, Giorno overlooks the room, letting his words flow out slowly and calmly. “Whatever Arroyo said back there, will not happen, Dr. López.”
The man tenses, and through rushed handwriting, he finishes his notes turning to him with big eyes and his glasses sliding down his nose. “I'm sorry, Don Giovanna. I was, uh, I… Guess I was jumping to conclusions.”
Humming, he barely smirks, “Let me guess, stereotypes?”
Dr. López chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess.”
Nodding, Giorno looks aside, hearing someone's footsteps down the hall. “That's what I thought.”
The door opens and Agosto 'Westwood' Carvelli comes in, holding two cups of coffee. Giving a nod to Dr. López as he leaves, Hysteria's user comes in, swiftly closing the door with his foot. “Lena said you're not sleeping, so… Here,” passing one cup, Westwood sits down. “I'm keeping you company.”
Taking the cup from him, Giorno chuckles, shaking his head: “Did she ask you for this?”
Nodding, West takes his mask off, rubbing his temples. “She's worried about you and the boys, you know?”
Taking a sip, Giorno nods. Feeling the warm liquid down his throat. “I know. But I can't let her stay here in her state.”
Chuckling, Westwood leans back against the couch. “Well, love's weird.”
“You're the one cosplaying Kato on a daily basis.” raising his cup, Giorno takes another swing of his coffee, watching in delight Westwood's frown, followed by:
“God, I promised her I would stay the night here. With you.”
Shrugging, Giorno grins. “Others would kill to be in your position, Carvelli.”
“I will pretend I didn't hear that, Giovanna.”
After a moment of silence, Giorno's smile vanishes —and Westwood, sensing his worry and sadness, takes a sip from his coffee, runs his tongue over his lips and finally, he mumbles: “Every member of the Joestar family I've met so far has proven their strength,” Giorno looks back, and Westwood keeps going, confident.
“Dante and Jovi will make it, Gio. They're your sons, after all.”
October 13, 7:37 AM.
“Giogio,” Guido Mista calls as he opens the door, head poking from the small gape. “The Kishibes are here.”
Blinking slowly, Giorno looks back —bloodshot and dark circles under his eyes, furrowed eyebrows and dry lips— and with a small nod, he seems to take a little bit longer to process Mista's words before nodding and, standing up, he stands there, squeezing his eyes shut for a second when dizziness kicks in; then, he looks back, a hand rubbing at his temple, voice low and awfully tired. “Give me five and I'll be there.”
Mista nods, shutting the door again, leaving the Don and Westwood alone for the time being. Walking back downstairs, patterns of light dance on the staircase as sunlight glimmers through the stained glass rose window above the front door. Mista joins Fugo and Akashi at the front entrance, welcoming the Kishibe family in and letting them know Giorno will be there presently.
Bundled up for the weather, Ellie tosses her cat-shaped beanie onto the ground, giggling. Rohan sighs, picking it up and keeping it in his arms, giving her a little frown. “Eliana, we’re guests. We can’t throw our clothes on the ground. I’m going to keep this…”
Wrinkling up her face, she lets out a tiny cry, sniffling as Ari sets her down on the ground and kneels down to talk. “I know it’s a little scary being in a new place, but it’ll be okay. You’re going to see Auntie Lena and you did so well on the long plane ride…”
Ellie keeps sniffling, letting out big crocodile tears and quiet sobs. “Ahhh, sweetheart, it’s been a big day… I know you’re hungry. I know” Ari hugs her close, standing again and rocking her gently, finally noticing Giorno at the top of the stairs.
Tucking Ellie’s hat into his pocket, Rohan walks to meet the Don, greeting him with a firm handshake and a hug. Both of them have dark circles under their eyes, Giorno’s clearly more noticeable.
“You look like crap, Giovanna.”
“Nice to see you too, Kishibe.”
They both laugh warmly, walking over to Ari and Ellie. Having calmed a bit, Ellie peeks up at Giogio, then hides into Ari’s shoulder, shy.
“And how is my favorite girl, hmmm?? Other than Lena, of course~”
Ari laughs, patting her back gently. “She’s tired from a long flight or she would be asking everyone to pick her up. It’s good to see you again, Giogio. Is Lena around?”
“Yes, of course, she went to bed last night while I watched the boys, so she is likely getting ready. Westwood is still up there keeping watch.”
Fugo interjects, looking outside. “Can we get your luggage? Your rooms are already prepared. Is Dr. Louis with you?”
“She needed a bit more time to gather supplies for the twins, but she should be here soon.”
“Very well. Akashi? With me.” The two exit to the car, Mista keeping watch over the entrance as they work.
“Ah, Ellie fell asleep again…” Ari glances over at Rohan, eyes soft and tired. “She needs to eat, but I know she didn’t sleep very much on the flight.”
Walking over, Rohan kisses Ellie on the head, putting his hand over Ari’s. “I’m sure the Giovannas will let us clean up and rest a little before we help keep watch.”
“Oh, that’s not neces–” Giorno starts, but gets interrupted.
“We’re here.” Rohan says firmly. “Ari reminded me… We would want the same if. Or when Ellie gets sick. We’re here as your support.”
The Don’s shoulders finally relax, letting out a deep sigh. “I am grateful. Other than my team, you know there’s no one we trust more with our family.”
Thinking back to their conflict earlier in the year, Rohan knows without a doubt that his words are sincere. “I do know… Now. Breakfast? Then maybe a nap for you and Ellie.”
Gesturing vaguely, Gio shakes his head, blinking slowly. “Sorry, I'm not hungry.”
Someone else's voice comes from the top of the stairs, “Oh no, mister. You are having breakfast.”
Turning around, Gio chuckles, seeing his wife there. Smiling softly, she walks down slowly —her dress follows her movement, flowing along until she stops by the end of the staircase, taking Giorno's hand to finally reunite with her friends.
There, Lena's gaze lands on Ari, eyes softening as she smiles, approaching her friend.
”Ariiii,” wrapping her arms around Ari, she's careful with the way she does so, pulling back after a few seconds.
Glancing down at Ellie, Lena hums, grinning now. “Hi, Ellie,” and looking back, she nods, “She's so pretty, just like her mom~” Turning to Han, she reaches out, pulling him in for a short, friendly hug.
Now, standing before the couple, Lena nods, hands resting around the baby bump. “Thank you for being here, it means a lot.”
“I said this before,” Rohan nods in Giorno's direction, then looks back at Lena. “But we would want the same when the time comes… For Ellie.”
“We'll be there.” with a firm nod, Lena gestures aside in the kitchen's direction. “Breakfast should be ready, please make yourself at home.”
“Thank you.” Rohan bows while Ari nods, both close their eyes in a signal of gratitude.
As they walk into the kitchen, followed by Giorno and Lena, the table lays ready, displaying a variety of ricotta pancakes, cannoli, brioche, fruit and coffee.
The chef nods, giving one last salute before he leaves, walking past Giorno with a quiet nod —which Giorno replies with a simple “Thank you, Giuseppe.”
By the time Giuseppe has left and Ariel and Rohan sit by the table, Giorno turns back to them, lending a hand to help Lena sit down. “We usually cook breakfast ourselves, but… As you can see, food hasn't been our priority.”
“It’s alright, we understand… Can I take Ellie to the bathroom first?”
“Do you remember where it is from the party?”
She smiles, nodding. “Yes. We’ll be right back.”
Finding the espresso machine on the counter, Rohan gestures to it, glancing over at Gio. “Care to show me how it works, Giovanna?~”
“My pleasure~”
Lena watches as the boys use the machine, chatting idly, reminding her of better days.
If only this visit had come under better circumstances…
She reaches a hand to her stomach, rubbing gently to calm herself and gasping as she feels a faint kick meet where her hand is pressing. It’s earlier than with the twins, but exactly the same feeling.
“Giobaby.”
The Don glances over his shoulder at his wife. “Hm?”
“She’s moving.”
His tired eyes light up instantly and he’s already walking over, leaving Rohan to customize his coffee how he likes. Kneeling down, the Don lays his palm on the bump, resting his head on his wife’s arm.
Rohan notes the use of she for the little one, but keeps to himself, turning to let the Giovanna’s have their private moment. In a second, Ari pops around the corner with a less-bundled up Ellie, who is finally walking by herself now that she’s more awake.
“Papa!” Running forward, Ellie grabs onto his leg, holding tight and hiding her face into the fabric of his pants. He chuckles, leaning down to scoop her up and cover her small round face with kisses, getting a bevy of giggles from her as she holds her tiny palms up to his face. “Papaaaa!!! Noooooo!!!”
He grins, giving her one last smooch on the cheek and turns back to the coffee. “Ari, do you want some? Gio taught me how to work the machine.”
“Yes, please.” Giving him a kiss on the cheek, she turns to Lena, leaving Ellie content in Rohan’s arms. Seeing Giorno kneeling next to Helena, Ari pauses, her mouth falling open.
“Is it…?”
Lena nods. “She’s kicking around. First time we could feel her.”
“IT’S A GIRL???”
Grinning, Lena nods. “We were going to tell you soon, but this is as good a time as any.”
“Ahhhh!!!!” Putting her hands up to her face, Ari’s eyes sparkle, her whole face lighting up. “So exciting!! Congrats!!”
Cheeks warming up, Lena nods, laughing quietly. “Thank you, Ari.”
Standing up, Giorno turns to Ellie, gesturing at her to get her attention. “Guess what, Ellie? You'll have a friend soon.”
Tilting her face to the side, Ellie looks back at her dad, then back at Gio. The Don chuckles, adding:
“Her name will be Esmeralda, Ellie.”
“Oh?” Setting his cup on the table, Rohan sits down with Ellie in his arms, smiling as Ari sits beside him. “Esmeralda…?”
Lena hums, “It means emerald in Spanish and Portuguese, it comes from a Greek word.” feeling her cheeks warm up further, she grins, barely hiding her flushed expression behind her hand, “I've always liked that name so, here we are.”
Sitting beside his wife, Giorno hums, extending a hand out to rub her back as Ari speaks up.
“Esme. It's such a beautiful name.” Looking back at Ellie and Rohan, she laughs softly. “I can definitely see the girls being best friends.”
“Right.” Giorno reaches out to his cup, raising it to his lips to take a sip from his coffee and hiding a smile. ”Please make yourself at home, eat all you want.”
Taking a cannoli, Lena pauses midway, looking back at her friends with kind, soft eyes. “Thank you for being here, really.”
Reaching out, Ari sets her hand on top of Lena's free hand, squeezing gently. “It's okay, Lena. Really. We wanted to be here. For you. For everyone.”
Tears welling up in her eyes, Lena chuckles, nodding. “I mean, yeah… But you left your home,” she looks back at Rohan, blinking and finally letting a single tear stream down her face. “Your work and life for us. I'm just…” setting the cannoli down, she reaches up to wipe away her tears, leaving back an angry trail over her skin.
“I'm really grateful for your support.”
Eyes softening, Rohan nods, deciding that maybe, accepting her words will make her feel better: with a silent hum and a bow, Rohan looks over at his wife, who seems to think the same. Imitating her husband, Ari bows, giving one last smile and reaching for a plate of pancakes to cut up for Ellie.
Breakfast goes by through silence and a few moments of conversation —catching up on Ellie's milestones, Rohan's work, Ariel's work at the Foundation, Giorno's law firm and Helena's foundation: by the end, Ari stands up with Ellie asleep in her arms, taking her to their bedroom.
Rohan stays back, finishing his coffee, before Westwood guides him to the twins' room (not without turning around and reminding Giorno to take a nap with the most dangerous expression he can put on –the gesture makes Giorno laugh wholeheartedly for the first time in hours, though it hides an ounce of pain).
As Rohan leaves and Giorno's laughter fades into silence, Lena looks through the window, sensing something, the type of omen that makes her stomach turn with excitement and her heart to fill with joy and hope for a new day.
But the second Giorno calls for her, it all blends back to confusion and worry.
“Lena.”
Turning to face him, her breath gets caught in her windpipe upon the realization of his true state: from his bloodshot eyes, dry lips, disheveled hair, his tie hanging around his neck undone and his shirt tucked out his pants to the absolute and raw desperation behind his eyes, barely held back by his will.
How —when— did it end up like this? A few seconds ago he was laughing and joking with Rohan. And now his mood had shifted instantly.
His question cuts off the silence. “Do you think… Do you think this is a punishment?”
Lena blinks once, twice, three times in a row before a quiet whisper leaves her lips. “What?”
Giorno leans back against the kitchen island, water bottle tightly held in his massive hand: rephrasing his question. “Like, karma. Is this some kind of karma? For what we did to the Dallas Board? Have we brought pain upon Dan and JoJo just for the sake of my pride and ego?”
Slowly standing up and walking around the island, Lena gets closer, standing on her tiptoes to reach a hand out to him. When he leans into her touch, lip trembling and green eyes clouded by pain, she mumbles out: “Baby, no. This is not about karma or… Divine retribution.” Affirming her hold on his face, she presses herself against him, trying to ground him somehow, anyhow —any possible way.
Slowly, she speaks up, giving him time to process her words, “We're born stand users. Our genes carry the virus. This is just biology; statistics.”
A tear rolls down his cheek, “But,” a sigh, broken and tired, eyes closed. “I can't stand seeing them in pain.” Opening his eyes, Lena's lips tremble, feeling her own eyes start to sting. “If I could I would swipe places —If I could endure their pain I would.”
Voice tiny, Lena shakes her head, “We can't. No matter how much we try, Giogio —we can't do that. We can only wait.”
“Wait and bleed,” a chuckle escapes him, both deep and broken as his arms circle her. Leaning his chin into the top of her head, Giorno mumbles. “You're right.”
Rubbing over his back, Lena twists her head to lay a kiss against the place his heart beats, “Get a nap, Giobaby. You need it.”
Humming, his arms let go slowly, reluctantly, reaching out to wipe his tears. “If something happens, wake me up.”
“I will. Rest, honey.”
Tilting her face up with a finger on her chin, Giorno mumbles, tired. “I'm serious, Helena. We're together on this, hm? Wake me up if something happens.”
Nodding, she sets her hands on his arm, squeezing back as her eyes bore into his, “I will.”
Leaning down without letting go of her face, Giorno presses his lips against the tip of her nose, her cheeks, forehead and lastly, lips, sealing his promise with the quietest of signs: a stare, hopeful and full of trust on his wife.
Staring back, Lena's lips curl up into a smile after a moment, relaxed and calmer now: “Goodnight, Giogio.”
Giorno chuckles, shaking his head as he leaves the kitchen, turning around at the last moment to blow her a kiss —one she catches and keeps close to her heart.
Standing alone in the middle of the kitchen, Lena sighs, dropping her hand to rest on her stomach.
“M'Lady,” Abel Agreste clears his throat as his stand, Blinding lights, allows him to materialize by Lena's side, earning a gasp from her and making him chuckle, nervous.
“Sorry, Donna. Didn't know you were having a moment.”
Rubbing the back of his head, Rome's Capo gestures forward, “Dr. Rebecca Louis is here. Akashi brought her here without incidents.”
Sighing, Lena nods, “First off: don't do that again. Second: don't scare me like that. Third: why did you let Akashi do that?”
“Eh,” Abel scratches the back of his head, looking up into the ceiling. “He was bored.”
“He's always bored.”
Sighing, Abel drops his hands at each side of his body, “I mean, yeah, but I wanted to make sure our surroundings were truly safe. Their stands are messing up with the systems, Fugo couldn't access the cameras for a while.”
Pressing her lips into a tight line, Lena sighs. “I'll talk to Fugo later. Where is Dr. Louis?”
“In the living room.” Abel gestures forward, intending to let her walk before him.
***
Coming into the twins' room, Giorno stops in the doorway, pausing to feel the soft, warm and smooth sensation of Ares' tail as the cat walks between his legs and into the boys' room.
“Ares.” He calls in a whisper, leaning down to pick him up and pointing a finger at the twins, “They can't play with you right now, hm? But there,” he then points at Rohan, who had been sitting in silence watching over the interaction. “There 's Rohan-sensei, hm? You might want to give him ideas for his manga.”
Rohan chuckles, shaking his head —raising a hand to comb his hair and fix his headband, his voice comes out tired, but equally enthusiastic: “An enemy with cat-like abilities?” Taking a close look, he hums, noticing how much Ares has grown both according to his age and breed, “And maybe a giant.”
“See? Told you.” Coming into the room, Giorno smiles and sets Ares down, letting him climb on Jovi's bed — and, trying to keep his eyes open forcefully, he takes a seat on the little one's bed, leaning to press a soft kiss to his forehead, mumbling a few words Rohan can't figure out.
Then, Gio repeats the motion with Dante, mumbling the same words: by the end when he's standing in the middle of the room he looks back and straight into Rohan's eyes.
“Thank you, Han.”
“No need to thank me. Get some rest.”
“Yes, yes, everyone’s telling me that.”
“Then I won’t say it again… But.” Rohan looks up at the twins, looking at their feverish expressions and exhausted faces. “Do I have your permission to use Heaven’s Door on the twins if necessary? I know Dr. Louis will be here soon. If I can help with any diagnostic work, I want to.”
“Just don’t write anything in them without both me and Lena here, Kishibe. I trust you, but I don’t want you making any rash decisions that will affect them permanently.”
“You have my word, Giovanna. Now, sleep. You’re going to fall over soon if you don’t rest.”
Walking to the doorway, he muttered something like “going, going, I’m going,” leaving Rohan and Ares behind with the boys.
***
“Mrs. Giovanna, it’s a pleasure.” Dr. Louis removes her glove, extending a warm hand in greeting. Helena grasps it firmly, giving her a welcoming smile.
“We’re glad you’ve made it here safely. May I take you upstairs to see Dante and Jovi?.”
She nods, gesturing to the packages in Mista’s arms. “Yes, of course. I made a supply run when I got here, so we should have what’s necessary to begin treatment of the stand fever.”
“Walk with me.” Lena heads for the stairs, chatting as they make their way up. “I’ve heard your specialty is stands, children of stand users, and the stand fever?”
“That’s right. I used to be a part of the main Dallas SPW branch… I had seen too many unexplained things in my life–spirits, ghosts, call it what you like. But when I was the victim of a stand attack, representatives from the Speedwagon Foundation had to step in. That’s when I learned all about the world of stand users.”
Intrigued, Lena listens carefully, walking down the hallway.
“I had no idea what that meant at first, or that you could be born with one… I had a daughter at 18. Single mom, already a year into pre-med, but I was always ahead of the curve when it came to academics. Turns out it was my stand helping. I don’t have a manifested form for mine, but I’m still a stand user. And that transferred down into my daughter as well…”
Waiting outside the door, they stop to finish the story.
“Did she go through the stand fever?”
Dr. Louis nods, “I was already in residency when it happened. The Foundation had taken me under their wing as a stand user and helped fund my education… I had to take a leave of absence to help care for Rosie, but they continued supporting me. Back in undergrad, I had specialized in biochemistry and had always kept up to date with new research. My special interest, I suppose. So when the Foundation told me that they thought it was the result of her stand awakening, I partnered with their research team to find out what cells activated during the process and how to make that transition slower…”
Lena’s eyebrows raise, hopeful.
“We were able to slow the process and make it more manageable for her body. Her stand is similar to mine, in that it doesn’t have a physical form, but that’s often easier on her… I’m rambling, forgive me.”
“Not at all.” Lena smiles, glad for the companionship of another stand user parent. “We would do anything for our children.”
Dr. Louis smiles in return, taking a deep breath. “We’ve been keeping an eye on Ellie in Morioh. When the new position there opened up with the research opportunity of two arrow user parents, I couldn’t resist… It’s such an unexplored field. Being a pioneer into new scientific discoveries is something everyone in the medical field dreams of.”
“I agree.” Lena reaches for her hand, squeezing it in affirmation. “My background is medical, so I understand the feeling.”
“Is there anyone else responsible for their medical care already here?”
“Yes, Dr. Enzo Boccelli is here, part of our Naples branch with his stand Type O Negative. You’ll meet them soon. We also have a representative here from the SPW Guadalajara branch, Dr. Joshua López. My husband, Giorno, is taking a nap, as he was up all night and about to pass out. Kishibe-sensei should be in the room now as well. Our guards Mista, Fugo, Abel, and Akashi will all be around in shifts, should you need anything.”
“I’m Mista.” The voice from behind them pipes up. “And while I’m riveted by your story, these boxes are heavy. Can I put them in the room, boss?”
“Ah, yes. Our apologies. Go ahead.”
Kicking his foot on the door to knock, Mista waits for the door to open, a surprised Rohan staring out.
“‘Scuse me Kishibe, we got some supplies.”
Rohan nods and walks to the windows, watching things unfold quietly as Lena and Dr. Louis enter the room as well.
Setting the boxes down by the desk beside Jovi's bed, Mista groans upon the sound of his bones cracking —rolling his shoulders, the gunslinger excuses himself quietly, leaving the room with a faint, pained look at the twins.
“Dr. López?” Lena calls, noticing the lights from the bathroom turn off and the door slowly opening: there stands Dr. López, rubbing his temples and fixing his glasses but quickly nodding and composing himself once he notices the Donna there.
“Excuse me, I needed to freshen up.”
With a small nod, Lena smiles, brushing it off with her hand. “Dr. Louis from the Morioh branch will be helping —maybe you both can set shifts and take breaks? There's a room for each of you.”
Blinking, Dr. López looks aside, quickly finding Dr. Louis by Lena's side, standing there with the same smile he's known for years now. Slowly, his lips curl up until he's grinning, bright eyes and all. “Becca? How long has it been?”
“A year, maybe? Last time we saw each other was back at that convention.” Stepping forward, Dr. Louis gives him a small, welcoming hug, pulling away from the embrace then looking towards the boys. “Care to update me with everything you know, Josh?”
He smiles slightly, grabbing up a notebook from nearby. “I’ve been recording symptoms and side effects of the stand virus as they occur, trading off with Doctor Boccelli in our observations.” Flipping through the pages, he reads off different entries to her, “We've been monitoring the fever without changes,” Josh pauses, taking a look at Rebecca: “We haven't been able to make it decrease from 102°F.” with a sigh and pushing his glasses up his nose, he goes back to his notes, “There are no signs of shock or organ failure, we've been monitoring blood pressure, diuresis, shock signals and… we were thinking of running some tests, to make sure infections aren't making their way into their systems.”
Dr. Louis nods, thinking of the information received —and taking a look at the twins, her brow furrows, noting their pained expressions. Though the picture brings back memories of her own daughter, she still hums, turning to ask; “What treatments have you administered so far?”
Putting the notebook aside, Dr. López looks back at the boys. “Acetaminophen, we've been giving them doses every six hours. Nutrition has been given by Type O Negative, Dr. Bocelli's stand.”
“I see..” Rebecca steps back, turning around to take a look inside of the top box in the desk. “Then we need to make sure infections and bacteria aren't making it harder. We should also consider swapping over to ibuprofen and giving them extra doses of vitamins and minerals.”
Dr. Louis holds up IV bags of specially mixed medications, the ones she had acquired just before her arrival. “The stand virus doesn’t respond to usual medications –it’s literally changing and activating their DNA, enabling the genes that create Stands. It’s too late to slow the process down, but we can help them fight. We have to monitor them until it reaches its end point and give them enough bodily resources to draw on to complete the transformation. Our priority is the protection of organs and vital functions.”
Dr. López steps up, holding one of the bags in his hand. “Hopefully that will happen soon, the environment has been shifting a lot.”
Rebecca stops, looks back and blinks twice in confusion. “Shifting? What do you mean?” she turns to Lena, who's now sitting by Dante's bed. “How long has this been happening, Mrs. Giovanna?”
Looking back, Lena presses her lips together, thinking of her response for a minute: “Around an hour after it started. When it happens, clocks stop or your environment morphs. It's like your perception is getting twisted for a second, and then goes back. It's pretty, well, weird and extremely powerful: it made two grown men kneel and gasp for air.”
Rohan stands up, eyes the size of dinner plates —amazed and horrified at once, but mostly curious. “...Who?”
Lena looks back, lips tightly pressed into a line for a moment before her lips part and her reply comes out in a whisper. “Gio and West.”
Gasping, Rohan turns to look at the boys, thinking back to the prophecy: cautious, he eyes Lena through the corner of his eye. “Does Dr. Louis know about that, Helena?”
Closing her eyes and shaking her head softly, Lena turns back to Rebecca, gesturing her over and out of the room. As they stand back in the hall, the Donna guides her towards Giorno’s studio.
Letting Dr. Louis first, Lena comes in after, letting the door open for Westwood to stand under the doorway. “Excuse me, Dr. Louis. I forgot about that. Please have a seat.”
Doing as she was told, Dr. Louis sits down before the desk, eyebrow raised in both confusion and wonder. “What’s the matter, Donna?”
Leaning both hands against the cool wood, Lena sighs, taking a deep breath before she starts. “Did you read the report on the first soul extraction, Dr. Louis?”
Dr. Rebecca Louis nods.
“Then you might already know what happened. My stand extracted the patient’s soul, his stand, technically. The source of his sickness was his stand, which was actively attacking its own user.”
“You mean Chrono Trigger.”
“Exactly,” pulling her phone out, Lena keeps talking while she seems to look for something in the device. “Chrono is under my command. It gave us a prophecy back then. About the twins and this exact moment.” Sliding her phone across the table and before Dr. Louis, Lena’s eyes hold a strange haze, one between worry and calm.
Taking the phone from her, Rebecca takes her time reading over it —and when she’s done and her eyebrows arch, amazement, horror, and wonder blend back into a second glance, then a third and a fourth: there she looks back, big eyes full of questions: “Mrs. Giovanna, do you realize the real meaning behind this?”
“Their stands are far too powerful, yes.”
“I mean,” giving the phone back, Dr. Louis looks aside, as if trying to see through the walls and into the twins’ room. “The magnitude of their strength affects the stand awakening process. The virus… It must be aggressive. If that’s what their powers will be then…”
She takes a moment to compose her thoughts, silently musing over everything, then replies again. “We haven't had cases like these before, at least not documented: you’re both born stand users with requiem stands. Yours came after, but Don Giovanna has had his for a while now, which adds to their predisposition for strong stands… The cellular mutation they’re going through is taking a toll on their bodies because it’s such a sweeping alteration of the genetic structure. We have no other explanation.”
“Right.” Sighing, Lena rubs her temples, letting her phone aside. “I know this should take two or three days, but… At the moment, I can’t imagine it will ever end.”
Eyes softening, Dr. Louis reaches out, laying a warm palm over Lena’s cold hand. “I understand, Helena. No mother wants to see their child hurt. Now that I’m here, I’ll make sure to provide the best care possible.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Westwood speaks up, slow but calm. “Donna, Dr. Bocelli is here.”
Looking up from the desk and back at the door where Westwood stands, Lena nods. “Let him in, Dr. Louis needs Dan and Jojo’s patient history.”
Standing aside to let him in, Westwood waits until Dr. Bocelli walks in and sits by Dr. Louis’ side, setting his cane between his legs so he can offer a handshake.
“Good morning, Dr. Louis. It’s a pleasure.”
Taking his hand, Dr. Louis smiles gently, “I’m glad to finally meet you, Dr. Bocelli. Your paper on the stand fever was truly amazing.”
“Oh, thank you. May I give you the details?”
Standing up and taking her phone, she makes her way to the door, stopping by Westwood’s side and turning to them, adding: “I’ll let you have your meeting, okay? I need to see how everything is going in our surroundings.”
“Of course, Lena.” Dr. Bocelli nods, a warm smile her way. “Don’t tire yourself out, okay?”
She hums and, as she walks down the hall, Westwood gestures at Akashi, who’s quick to follow her.
***
Pannacotta Fugo has been awake longer than this. For him and his insomnia, more than twenty four hours up is not a big issue.
But this time is different. The twins don’t show signs of recovery, their parents are too worried to care for their own needs: he’s used to seeing them strong and imposing, nothing has ever had this effect on them before.
Leaning back against his chair, a sigh passes his lips right as his next thought crosses his mind and his eyes scan over the security cameras, watching Abel and Paolo take turns to have breakfast.
Giorno and Helena are strong. Together they’re undefeatable. But the twins are their kids and everything that happens to them will always worry and stop their whole world, because that’s how parents are supposed to feel. Just because his parents didn’t, doesnt mean others’ parents can't or don’t feel that way.
Parents, what had happened to his?
Were they still alive, wealthy and equally judgmental?
What about his butler, the one who used to bring him snacks during his late night study sessions? Had anything changed or was it still a broken and empty home? Were the halls of that house haunted by his suffering? Had they moved out after that incident…?
The truth was he didn’t miss them —his father did not deserve to be called that, and his mother was not someone who should be missed in the first place. After all, their treatment had killed his ambitions and passions for years until he settled down with the new Passione… And only there, under Giorno’s command, had things started to change for him. His will to live instead of just surviving had emerged finally in the shape of his passion for science and occultism, something he refused to let go, holding onto it through his toughest challenges.
The door opens and he, startled, almost knocks over his coffee cup. Lena’s voice brings him out of his daydream when she calls out to him, gently, like she always does: a gentle soul. “Good morning, Panni. Have you had breakfast yet?”
“Lena.” Standing up, he quickly offers his seat to her, insisting until she gives in. Only there he rubs the back of his neck, holding his coffee mug with the other. “I’ve had coffee. I’m not, uh, hungry.”
Turning around, Lena smiles, revealing the cannoli wrapped up in a napkin that she holds carefully, almost like she’s afraid of dropping it. “I thought so. Please have this, and make sure you eat something later.”
With a nod, he takes the pastry, sitting on the couch at the other side of the desk, pondering on his question for a while —from time to time, his eyes fall on the Donna, who’s busy looking at the different cameras displayed around the mansion.
His voice surprises him when it comes out, taking him off guard. “Helena.”
She hums, giving him a short, curious look.
Clearing his throat, Fugo asks: “I…” He hesitates, swallowing hard, then tries again. “Will they be okay?”
Her lips seal into a line: looking around his dark office, the Donna thinks about his question for a while, only stopping when the room around them becomes bigger: the walls grow like trees in a haunted forest and the computers are suddenly tiny little objects in the desk: the distortion lasts a second before it goes back with a thump.
Lena then looks back at him, a smile grazing her lips. “I think so. I want to believe they will make it.” She looks back at the cameras, watching Abel and Paolo freak out after switching places during the distortion.
“It’s just that you and Giogio are always so calm and collected… I think this is the first time I’ve seen you two so worried. Not even back when you took over the Dallas Board.”
“That was a different situation, yes. We never thought this would happen so soon.”
Fugo hums, looking at the monitor where the boys lie sleeping, faces feverish, but hands reaching towards each other, drawn subconsciously together even now… Throwing the napkin into the trashcan and taking a bite from the cannoli, he listens to Lena while she walks out. “Even so… I can assure you, Panni, the sun will shine on us again.”
A warm sensation blooms in his chest right after her words have registered on his brain —hope shines, even if the room goes dark when she closes the door behind her.
***
Laying on his stomach with both hands tucked under his pillow, Giorno stirs awake upon the sound of his phone. The device, set by the bedside table, vibrates and the screen lights up displaying 'fully charged' at the bottom of the screen. After a few seconds, the screen goes black, vibration stops and he's left there, one green eye peeking through the mane of blond hair that fell over his face while he was sleeping.
With a quiet hum, he rolls on his back without moving to the other side of the bed. Running a hand up to get his hair off his face, his free hand carefully pats his side in hopes of finding someone there --however, all he can feel is the mattress and silk sheets under his warm palm.
The twins.
Memories flash behind his eyelids fast: from his wife's worried expression, Westwood driving him home, to Dante and Jovi's feverish expressions. It makes him stir awake completely and as he sits up by the edge of the bed and reaches out to his phone, the darkness around him does not help soothing his mind.
10:39 AM.
“Three hours?” he mumbles to himself, unable to find out how much he slept —but feeling better now.
Standing up and throwing his phone on the bed, he walks up through the familiar bedroom until the pads of his fingers find the light switch, flipping it.
Warm light bathes the room —there, he takes a moment to look around, eyes scanning over the decorations: from his and Lena's CD's collection, to the empty side of the bed, where her sweater lays folded on top of her pillow.
Sighing, he turns around and gets into the bathroom. Stripping off his boxers and getting under the shower head, letting the cold water run down his body.
Stepping out, a towel wrapped around his waist, Giorno throws his hair back, feeling some water drops run down his back in the process. Coming into the closet, his hand rests above the towel holding it in place while he looks for something to put together a decent outfit.
Finally dressed in black pants and a black turtleneck shirt, Giorno walks around the closet, looking for his shoes until he finds them by Lena’s side —he’s not sure how they got there— and puts them on, turning to pick his black trench coat from the hanger. Letting it drape over his arm, he comes to a stop by the mirror, making quick work with his hair, simply combing it back loosely, with two stubborn pieces of short hair falling on his forehead and putting on his barrel piercings, rings and the arrowhead hidden beneath the fabric of his shirt. Taking one last look in the mirror, his brow softens as he nods to himself, putting on his trench coat.
Exiting the bathroom and standing in the middle of the room, his eyes fall on Lena’s sweater atop her pillow: walking up to the bed, he tucks it under his arm, slipping his phone inside his pocket before leaving the room.
The hall is empty, he notes, and the silence in the mansion is something he’s grown unfamiliar with. As he rounds the corner, Akashi comes into view. The swordsman is sitting at the top of the stairs, talking to someone in the lobby.
As he keeps walking, Akashi seems to sense his presence and, turning to him, the pink haired man grins, standing up. “Goooooood morning, boss!”
“Good morning, Akashi.” Looking down, Abel’s already waving from the lobby, grinning and excusing himself when Mista calls for him from outside.
Akashi walks before him, gesturing him forward, “C’mon, Lena’s with the boys! Dr. Louis is here, too, and she’s already working to get your mini you’s up and ready to run around!”
Humming, Giorno follows him, quietly listening to the story he has to share now —Akashi has been alive for about 400 years, and he’s admitted openly how bored he truly is: to Giorno, listening to his stories seems like the best way to help him get rid of his boredom at least for a while. The man is also impatient, intolerant to getting interrupted with a quick mind: and Giorno, ever the patient man, has no problem listening to him. After all, Akashi has been alive through historical moments and always has something to share.
“Anyway, I’ll tell you about Tesla and Edison later: just keep in mind Tesla was right and Edison was a bitch.” Coming to a stop before the twins’ room, Akashi looks up to declare that right into Giorno’s eyes. The Don, with a nod and a smile, replies: “I’ll remember that, Akashi.”
“Good.” opening the door, Akashi lets him in, closing it behind his back.
Four pairs of eyes fall on him as soon as he steps in and the door closes.
“Well, good morning, Giovanna. You don’t look like crap anymore~” Rohan is the first to greet him, waving from his seat on Dante’s bed, where Dr. López stands holding his clipboard and pen.
Chuckling, Giorno walks in, patting Rohan’s back a bit too hard, and pressing a kiss to Dante’s forehead. Then, he walks around, kisses Jovi’s forehead and offers a handshake to Dr. Louis.
“Thank you for being here, Dr. Louis. We’re grateful for your support.”
“Of course, Don Giovanna.” Dr. Louis nods his way, turning back to check Jovi’s blood pressure and write down notes on his breathing.
Looking on, he makes eye contact with Lena, a warm smile spreading through his lips when her cheeks turn pink and her smile reaches her eyes: she’s sitting on the couch, overlooking the procedures. Walking up to her, he sits by her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, feeling her nuzzling her face against the side of his face. By her side Ares meows, purring and climbing on her lap to get his attention.
Pulling back, he reveals the sweater under his arm, laying it gently over her form with a soft whisper of, “Your nose is cold, dear.”
She smiles, taking the garment from him and pulling it on. “Not as cold now~”
Rohan glances around at the room, filled almost to capacity with visitors. “If it’s alright, I’ll go check in on Ari and Ellie… Now that Giovanna is back.”
“Yes, of course, re-join us when you’re ready.” Giorno offers a warm smile, gesturing to Akashi. “If you’ll show him to the Kishibe’s room??”
Jumping up from his seat, Akashi grins. “I’ve actually been waiting for a chance to talk to you, Kishibe-sensei!” Walking over, the two exit the room, Giorno shaking his head.
“Kishibe may have a hard time getting him to shut up now that he’s started.”
Lena smiles, leaning into his chest. “Rohan can handle it, I’m sure~”
Lowering his voice to a whisper, the Don focuses his gaze on the twins. “How are things going? Did you make any progress?”
Whispering back, Lena replies. “I think so. Dr. Louis has more experience with these kinds of situations, so I have more hope now… More confidence that we have the best team possible here.”
He kisses her forehead, noticing she’s warmer than usual herself. “Have you gotten enough water, baby?”
She shakes her head no, but reaches for a bottle nearby. “We’ve been so busy getting everyone up to speed, I haven’t had time.”
Giorno reaches gently for the bump, resting his hand there. “You have to take care of yourself. For us. And… For Esme.”
She nods, tearing up a little and taking a sip from the bottle. “I know…”
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