joey looks over at him, eyebrows still pulled together slightly. "you're a jerk, you know that?" they both know that she's referencing several things at the moment, not just his words minutes ago.
"yeah," he tells her, shaking his head and looking a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THE NEXT MORNING, TRAINING IS CANCELED.
So, naturally, the first thing Joey does is sleep in. The second she's awake, though, she's down those elevators and headed for her mom.
She knocks on the door, just in case, but a wave and smile through the window from Dr. Ritter encourage Joey to step inside.
"Good morning, Miss Stark," Dr. Ritter says.
"Good morning," Joey greets similarly, before going and taking a seat on the edge of her mom's exam bed. "Morning," she tells her mother quietly, offering her a smile. Heidi smiles back, but her heart isn't in it— or maybe her head isn't in it. Either way, Joey has to try really hard to not think too much of it.
"Your mom should be good to get out of here in time for the meeting tonight," Dr. Ritter explains from across the room. "We're just keeping an eye on her vitals for the time being, since her elbow, bruises, and other topical things are healing normally right now."
"OK," Joey says, nodding and smiling. "Thank you."
"Of course," the doctor replies. She grabs a clipboard off one of the rolling trays in the middle of the room and tucks it under her arm. "I'm going to go check in with some of the other doctors, but I'll be back. If you're gone by that time, it was nice seeing you, Miss Stark."
"You too, Dr. Ritter."
With that, the doctor steps out of the room, and it's finally just Joey and Heidi. Daughter, and mother.
"How did you sleep?" Joey asks, fiddling with the cuffs of her sweater.
"Fine," Heidi says, forcing a smile. Joey's brows pull together slightly at this.
"Mom," she says lightly, tilting her head and taking her mom's hand. "You don't have to pretend like everything's... I know things are—"
"J," Heidi cuts off softly. "I slept fine. I am OK, I just... what they did to me..." She shakes her head. "I'm tired, honey. But I'm trying to get better, and pretending like everything is OK is the easiest thing for me to do right now." She covers Joey's hand with the one she isn't holding. "Do you understand?"
Do you understand?
It isn't said in a motherly way, it isn't said harshly. It's said pleadingly. Like, please, tell me you understand.
"Yes," Joey tells her after a beat. She swallows.
She wishes she didn't understand. Despite every argument she's had with her parents from the ages of 14 to 17, Joey wishes she wasn't so grown up, at this moment. She wishes she was still the little girl that Heidi never would have been this transparent with.
The voices of Dr. Ritter and someone else start to float up the hallway outside, and Joey snaps out of her thoughts when she hears them. She's suddenly overwhelmed by a multitude of scary thoughts and sad feelings, and she needs to get out of this room— she needs air.
