(JoJo/Shadowbolts) Dancing the Bullet

>”I can’t believe I had to play dead for some, some… hrgh! Not even an enemy!”
>Sugarcoat glanced into the rearview mirror at the yellow-faced girl going red in the backseat.
>”You’re bound to get mugged if you keep dressing up like a vulnerable schoolgirl on missions. At least you had enough sense not to use your Stand on him.”
>”I, I could never hurt someone who didn’t -- DESERVE IT. GOD why was he so stupid, he didn’t even see the bullet hit me, I hit the ground, like, /ten seconds later/. And I ruined my clothes with alley filth, I’m going to have to order a new uniform!”
>Sugarcoat rolled her eyes.
>”Yeah, and now you’re ruining my upholstery.”
>”Oooooh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize my incoming chest wound was so unimportant to you! Why are you driving so slowly?!”
>She hopped up from her sticky position in the back to peer out the windows like a spaz.
>”We’re in traffic. We’ll meet up with the others in a few minutes, you won’t die before then unless you want to ruin my car out of spite.”
>Sour plopped back down into her seat.
>She twitched occasionally, imagining the bullet entering her chest.
>She wasn’t afraid of pain, of course!
>Just… damage that didn’t get better. She’d done a careful job avoiding that up to now.
>Everything with a sharp point can be aimed in a good direction. That was archery. That was life.
>Right? That was how life was supposed to be, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?
>Of course.
>Right?
>Sugarcoat sighed in the front, and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
>”You didn’t take your pills today, did you?”
>”Of course I did.”
>Sour said it without thinking, and then swore as a sudden rush of emotion, somehow a completely different texture from the ones inside her own mind, forced its way into her mouth.
>She started salivating like a dog, desperate for a handful of the capsules, for a whole bottle’s worth if she could get it.
>Sugarcoat fished in the purse riding shotgun, and threw back a pair of them.
>”I hate you for this, you know.”
>Sour chewed and swallowed them, just to experience the taste a little longer.
>Just as she wiped the slobber off with her sleeve, the hunger lifted.
>”I know.”
>Sugarcoat adjusted the mirror away from Sour as traffic started to thin.
>She didn’t feel like explaining her Stand had been using a light touch.

>Be Flash Sentry.
>You have a lot to worry about right now.
>It’s not clear when any of the dangerous elements are on the playing field, no one’s talking to you, and Princess Twilight’s left you with her most valuable artifact.
>You keep it in Sunny’s backpack for now, always in the same building as you, always within range. You know you can trust her to keep it polished for a few years and put it in an attic box somewhere.
>In many ways, you’re the last line of defense.
>It disturbs you sometimes how bad at it you really are.
>You’ve already tried bringing someone back to life with Beat Street, tossing a handgun into their car so they wouldn’t be unarmed.
>It didn’t count as theirs anymore when they were gone, apparently.
>And one of your subordinates, girls from a completely different school, was just shot.
>The bullet was due in ten hours, and you had to make it right.
>The bullet was snatched right before it made contact with her skin, an instant reflex. Too close to deal with normally.
>Maybe she was mistaken in the heat of the moment, but if you found Kevlar and stuck it on her the bullet might reappear inside the material and shred it inside of her.
>Maybe. You weren’t a doctor, and you couldn’t really get a professional opinion for this.
>Sunny was giving hers, at least.
>”Couldn’t Indigo just swap hearts with some randy and then switch again with Sour? They’d be able to go to a hospital, and no one would know anything weird had gone on. They’d just think they were shot from a distance.”
>Twilight would know.
“Doesn’t work that way. Indigo also has to swap part of herself, she can’t do multi-person transplants.”
>Zap looks frustrated, facing the floor.
>She would be volunteering to take the bullet and lay in the ER on morphine for a day if she didn’t know you’d say no.
>She’s a good soldier.
“Anyone else?”
>You look up to the others assembled in your friend’s apartment. Sweet is in his bedroom laying on the floor and listening to his music.
>”If it comes down to it, Sunny can give her a second heart.”
>Sugarcoat, unfazed as ever.
>You can still see the last person she touched in your head. The way they had two torsos, two faces, the exact same screaming and lumpy uneven breathing until she let go.
>Shudder.
>You go back to the drawing board.

>Be Sour Sweet.
>Indigo’s really going the extra mile for you.
>You wish you were strong enough to deflect this thing.
>You wish your Stand could just deflect things like hers could.
>She came and slapped you a high-five before you knew what she was doing.
>Sneaky bitch.
>You love her for it.
>She’s doing this on borrowed nerves. Literally. The echoes of this pain won’t exist in fifteen minutes.
>Right now it’s real, though. Lemon’s going to town on her with kitchen knives and disassembled gun parts.
>”Ha, hey, do you think I’ll be able to flash people for real now? -Agh!”
>Lemon’s being careful, Sunny’s pretending to try inserting the plate too so Equinox is keeping any complications away… however it does that.
>Flash ran to a bookstore a few minutes ago and threw some medical textbooks into her timeline, mostly for good luck.
>Indigo stifles her grunts and closes her eyes.
>You want to be that strong.
>You almost want to let out the bullet now, just to live with the damage.
>That would make you strong like her, wouldn’t it? Overcoming hardship, even if you bring it on yourself?
>W-wouldn’t it?
>”Stay with us, Sweet. We need you both to hold on a little longer.”
>Flash calls from the doorway, overseeing everything.
“Huh? O-oh, yeah.”
>”Done!”
>Lemon steps back, beaming over her handiwork.
>You prop yourself up on an elbow to get a better look, and then suddenly it’s on you.
>It seriously fucking hurts, god letting the bullet just hit you would’ve been a STUPID idea..
>You force your hands to your sides to keep from trying to rip the sharp edges out.
>Then curl up and whimper at the feeling of nerves that shouldn’t be there.
>”Release it, Sour! Let it out!”
>That’s Lemon, coming closer to stand over you, and Sugarcoat next to her.
>”She can’t take it back until you bounce it off.”
>You can’t. You can’t.
>You feel like someone’s punching you in the tits in the worst kind of slow motion.
>You know Indigo can’t be any better, now that she’s not feeling the pain.
>”Hey! Sour! You can do it!”
>...That’s her.
>She’s standing next to the others, smiling down at you.
>You can’t stop from tearing up.
>It’s like she doesn’t even know she’s going to be feeling this again once you’re done.
>You close your eyes and let go of something far away from yourself, but always hovering just over your shoulder.
>Your angel, maybe, or your demon. Your way of
>The bullet clangs against the bit of repurposed steel, dents it slightly, and the pain falls away.
>As it rolls on the floor, you realize you can breathe again.
>You realize there’s a hand next to your head.
>Indigo’s grinning down at you.
>You take it and she picks you up.
“It’s time to deal with the Dazzlings.”
>You nod, and she nods back.
>”Bet your ass.”