Joey McCoy is a total daddy's girl. (imanursenota__) wrote in vascaptiolog, @ 2013-12-14 01:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | joey mccoy, tate langdon |
WHO: Joey McCoy and Tate Langdon
WHAT: Joey needs a break from the museum for the night (aka: Joey, look at your life; look at your choices.)
WHERE: Tate's cabin
WHEN: Late night Day Thirty-Three
WARNINGS: Joey's in a mood so, at the very least, language. Will update anything else as needed
STATUS: Closed, Incomplete
While Joey wasn't consciously aware of why it bothered her so much, the truth of the matter was that Carl and Piper weren't just her best friends in the dome; they protected her. However age-inappropriate, Joey was letting them fill her guardians' shoes in their absense. All the fighting, finally coming to a head and culminating in the two of them abandoning her to go their own separate ways to let off steam was hitting a little too close to home and without having any idea that the root of the problem was that, rather than her frustration at feeling caught in the middle — though that, too, played its part — drove her out of the museum as well. With the loss of her trust in Stiles and the fact that the only other two people she wholly trusted were already at the museum that she needed so badly to vacate temporarily to clear her head, Joey turned to her new friend. Tate agreed to go for a walk with her, but moreso...he offered her a place to sleep while she cooled off. The offer was too perfectly timed when she'd already nearly asked him herself; Joey couldn't turn it down. So, she scribbled off a note to Carl and Piper, because as upset with them as she was, she didn't want them to worry and they'd both been thoughtful enough to give her the heads up that they were leaving before they did so. And, off she went. By the time she could actually see the gas station in the dark, she could also see Tate's silhouette in the short distance. The neon sign announcing that the gas station was open — the one that had never been turned on before, but had mysteriously started working over the past week — cast his shadow thin and tall against the dirt path and Joey snapped her Zippo lighter shut, shoving it in her pocket and sniffling as she wiped her face to hide the tear tracks. She didn't want Tate's pity. She just needed his hospitality. Once she was in earshot, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm herself the rest of the way down before he could see her. Then, she spoke. "Thanks for meeting me...I'm sorry. I know it's late," she said quietly, closing the gap between them. Please do not ask me if I'm okay, she thought miserably, knowing that that sympathetic sort of question, while always well-meant, seemed to be an inexplicable trigger for the waterworks to kick back into gear. Not once in her life had she been able to fight that reaction off when asked whether she was all right so soon after finally calming herself down from a good, well-needed cry. This place was wearing heavily on Joey...Carl and Piper's fight had been the straw that broke the camel's back, it would seem. |