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When you live somewhere as cruel as Ogre Street, you can never let your guard down. Speedwagon had learnt this lesson young, and he had learnt it well. If you are not constantly on the defence, somebody will attack; if you turn your back on someone, they will stab you in it. Once such lessons are learnt, they are incredibly difficult to forget.
Jonathan knew where Speedwagon came from. Not only had he seen it himself, if only briefly, but Speedwagon had shared all sorts of stories from his past life. He had fought his way through life, stealing and cheating and doing whatever it took. He never bragged about what he had done, despite how often he brought it up; any added embellishment was designed to entertain his upper-class companions with gristly tales of how the other half lived.
Even after living in the Joestar mansion for several months, Speedwagon seemed to have never settled in. While Erina had grown comfortable enough in the passing months to lounge across the chairs and sofas, Speedwagon still sat bolt upright, eyes whipping over to the door whenever it opened. His reflexes remained sharp at mealtimes, scoffing his food down as if to prevent anyone else taking it. He was even vigilant late into the night, glaring into the darkness long after the household fell asleep.
Jonathan and Erina had both noticed, but they had no idea how to begin addressing it.
Speedwagon visited London from time to time. He still had a few loose ends to tie up, and despite everything he had made some genuine friends on Ogre Street. On one such visit, he had met up with his old gang in a crowded little pub, sharing stories and pints of beer.
"Rumour has it you've gone up in the world," one man began. "Got yourself a fancy new gaff up in Liverpool of all places."
Speedwagon stiffened. "What've you heard?"
"Not much beyond that, really." The man sipped his drink. "Just strange to think, innit? One day you're muggin' any old toff who walks by, the next you're movin' miles away to shack up with 'em."
Speedwagon forced a grin. "Well, you know me. Go where I want, do what I want. And if you got a chance outta this shithole, I know we wouldn't see ya for dust."
The man laughed and toasted to that.
When he returned home, Speedwagon couldn't ignore the feeling that had grown in his gut since that night. He had made the carriage driver stop multiple times, getting out to see if they were being followed. He never saw anyone, but that did nothing to ease him.
He tried to relax that evening, enjoying the warmth of the fire and food and friendship. None of it stopped his blood from running cold every time his thoughts returned. He thought of one of the rival gangs ramming down the doors, or smashing the windows, bursting in and ransacking the manor for all of its priceless heirlooms. He thought of them coming after him, trying to take him down now that they thought he'd gone soft. He thought of them attacking Jonathan and Erina, whether out of righteous anger at society's injustices or just to get at Speedwagon.
It kept him up even longer than he normally would stay awake. Before, the thoughts had only been just that, but now he knew that there was a tangible possibility. Once people learnt that he was in Liverpool, it was only so long before they tracked down exactly where he was and who he was with.
He couldn't stay still any longer. He got out of bed, lit a candle and marched over to the window. It was firmly locked, and he saw no motion other than the wind blowing through the garden. He took his candle with him into the hallway. He hoped to find somebody to ask about anything strange they had seen, but all the staff were either at home or asleep in their quarters downstairs.
He tried to keep quiet as he entered the bedroom next to his. He searched the room for signs of damage, anything missing or out of place. He kept his candle as far away from Jonathan's bed as possible, hoping the light wouldn't wake him as he inspected drawers and walls and curtains.
"Mr Speedwagon? What are you doing?" Erina stood in the doorway, her own candle in hand.
He jumped upright. "Miss Pendleton! Have you seen anything untoward tonight? Even the slightest bit off?"
"Only you right now. Why, has something happened?"
"Not yet, but it very well could any minute."
Erina's brow furrowed. "I think we'd better wake Jonathan."
They shook him awake, Erina explaining how she heard odd noises from the room and came to investigate.
"I see," Jonathan said. "But why, Mr Speedwagon? What could possibly be happening to upset you so?"
"Anything! At any moment!" Speedwagon cried. "There's a lot of people in London who don't like me, and any one of them could come burstin' in and do all sorts to ya."
Jonathan's gaze steeled. "Is there any evidence that any such people are here right now?"
Speedwagon hesitated. "Well, um, not quite. But they could-"
"Please, Mr Speedwagon," Erina interrupted. "If you haven't found anything, then maybe that means there's nothing to find."
Jonathan hummed in agreement. "Surely we would've noticed an intruder by now."
Speedwagon growled in frustration. "You ain't gettin' it! If someone gets in and hurts either one of ya, I couldn't live with myself!"
Jonathan and Erina shared concerned looks.
"Is that what this is about?" Jonathan asked. "Are you really more worried about us than about yourself?"
"Course I am. If they get me, that's one thing. Probably had it comin’ with the life I’ve lived. But you two ain't done nothing to deserve that. They'd only do it because of me."
They fell silent for a moment, each unsure how to proceed.
"I truly don't think you need to worry." Jonathan said after a while. "All of those people are far away from here. Now that you don't have to fight them to survive, I see little reason for them to go so far out of their way to attack you. And even on the slightest chance that they do, you know that we're all able to defend ourselves in a fight."
Speedwagon took the message in, sighing as his gaze fell to the ground. "I suppose you have a point."
Jonathan took his hand. "You’re safe now, Mr Speedwagon. I hope one day you'll be able to believe that."
With no idea what to say, Speedwagon nodded and returned to his bedroom.
He found sleep a bit easier that night. He couldn't bring himself to believe Jonathan just yet, but for now he was willing to trust.