Joey Alexander knows he is good (fornothing) wrote in rooms,
Re: Gotham: Iris and Joey
[Iris stopped him only because he let her stop him, but there was a pause there in his fury when she drew on his towel-bloody hand with that red pouring down the wrist. He didn't say anything while she talked, she talked like a big sister or maybe a mother and he'd never had either of those, but it seemed kind of nice. Nice in the way that unfamiliar could be nice. He was still untrusting, and if she went to pull the towel away, he diverted his eyes. Joey was a man and all, but... he just didn't want to see it.]
Why all the women in our fuckin' family gotta go for pieces of shit? Why all of us-- [And he patted his chest with his good hand.] -- Why we gotta be pieces of shit? You say you knew he was bad, but you loved him anyway and that's some shit I can get behind because you think you... [He was getting lightheaded, the words drifted away, and Joey closed his eyes to stop the swoon after he caught a glimpse of deep, nasty red surging from his palm and his wrist and his fingers. The counter had to support him from the hip. He dug his elbow in hard to stay steady.]
I know you got sold away and shit, but you're a fuckin' Alexader, girl. Didn't ever anybody tell you that you're better than any of these motherfuckers that think they know? This family? [Chest pat once more, weaker this time.] We're all we got, and all we fuckin' need or ever needed. Somebody shoulda told you that shit from the start instead of throwing money in your face and calling that family. [Because she read rich like vintage coin, right?] And look, I don't want to know about Sam's shit, I fuckin' don't. She wants to tell me, she fuckin' can, but right now I just -- nah. [He couldn't handle it, not right now. Not with his head swimming through gin and weed and blood loss and blood seein'.]
But you look at me right now and you fuckin' tell me that the person you're with today is a good person. [His blood-gush hand smeared a palm print across her collarbones, but then he realized he needed to gesture toward the acket she'd come in with instead. It was a man's coat. And Iris was a little bird woman who didn't buy men's coats, Joey could tell that no matter how diluted his dwindling blood got with gin.]
Don't even have to be as good as me, sure as fuck don't need to be good as Shane. [Easy smile as his face went paler.] But a good person. [Stare down.] I ask around, what the fuck am I going to hear bout him?