When she rounded the corner, Marcy almost felt bad for Joey. He looked haggard. He looked overstretched. She knew that he was stressed and overworked with Willow’s absence. And she knew that he missed Willow and that he wanted her back, safe and sound, and she could relate to that, and she could understand that. So she almost felt guilty for him, and she almost just headed back to her room, before she’d spoken her mind. She almost decided to just pretend she hadn’t seen him at all. Almost.
She didn’t attack him, like she had half a mind to. She didn’t threaten him, like she really wanted to. She didn’t even raise her voice. Instead, in a trait she had picked up from her mother that she didn’t even realized she had learned or was capable of doing, she stood right in front of Joey, looked him squarely in the eye, and said simply, “Joey. Why?” and he stopped in his tracks, looking up from his files, giving her his full attention.
He looked shocked, and slightly flustered. “I just—Well, I have concerns. That’s all. I might have lost my temper a little bit, but I have concerns.”
“Are they actually about Frankie, or the fact that you feel like you were losing Willow before she got taken?” Joey gapped at her like a fish out of water. “The truth is—it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you both love her. It doesn’t matter if she loves you both. It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t give two rats about either of you. Nothing can be done about until she is safely back within these walls. And the only way to do that is for you and Frankie, and the rest of the team for that matter, to work together. So please. Don’t be a little bitch.”
She sounded so much like her mother until the last moment. Ah well, what’s life without a little change. With another small shake of her head, Marcy turned away from Joey and headed back to bed.