after the fight at the bear, you find yourself ready to run. carmen doesn't let you.
w/c: 2.4k
a/n: she's short. she's gone through many deletions and rewrites and i'm still not completely happy with it but I'm posting it anyways lmao. it's very wordy but how else am I going to untangle the clusterfuck that is this relationship? this is CARMEN.
At first, you don't know where to go. You walk twenty blocks until your feet ache and the cold bites at your cheeks, you walk until you get to the second last stop on the L, you walk until you forget Carmen, the soup and everything you had left wanting in the bear hallway.
You find that you don’t like how your own blood tastes, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes as juttered cold air when you realise Carmen still had domain over your tastebuds.
You don’t forget him, you can’t forget him.
The feeling is quick as it morphs back into the nauseous anger, like the press of your imprints into the snow before it falls back into the sheet of white that covers the city. You don’t want to think about the bear but it comes in flashes, in waves muddled with the pieces of the past that had felt like stomach acid burning your throat.
You had thought you made peace with the memories of Carmen and you from so long ago, in the silence after he had left for Chicago and for Mickey that filled your apartment. So why did it feel like you were back there again? Like he had left you? Like you were left to swallow the embarrassment and betrayal- your vision blurs when you try to make sense of it. A couple yells as you push past them on the sidewalk, hand over your mouth when you try to blink them away.
Carmen had looked at you, in the moments before you left the Bear. His eyes were glassy and red, his mouth was open and he looked at you like he had broken something. You hated it, god you did. You wanted to scream, to break something but all you did was laugh. And then cry. And then laugh again.
You didn't know what you wanted really, an apology? What could Carmen say to fix what had happened? You can’t find reason and that scares you more than anything, that you would be stuck with this sick, this plague of a feeling that you could not fix.
It would be the end of you both, and you didn’t know if Carmen would change. If he could be who you wanted him to, and suddenly you feel embarrassed. Like maybe you were trying to fit yourself into his life where it could not be, squeeze yourself into a space that was too small, and that they all could tell. That they saw how your limbs jutted and you were crouched in the crawl space. Could someone love him better? Someone that would make sense rather than your misshapen, haunted past ever could. Did he believe that?
Did he know that? Now? After you had made a fool of you both?
You wanted to run away, to escape before he could leave you. You can’t go back home, you can't go back to an apartment he will leave you in.
You feel the buzz of your phone in your coat pocket, and it’s not till you slump your tired body onto a park bench do you remember you hadn’t left it in the Bear. You see the bundle of missed calls, nearly bulging off the fogged up screen of your cracked phone. You see Sydney, and Richie, and Sugars name and you find that you still have tears to give when you can’t find Carmen's.
Everything is a blur in the moments after, like your vision was now clouded by a haze, by the grief of finally losing him. He hadn't said it, and you didn't dare speak it aloud but it was true wasn’t it? You felt it, like a part of you was missing, left on that table or hallway or wherever else the Bear keeps parts of you.
You grip the rusted fence of the harbour, watch as the night waves crash violently against each other, loop and swirl in the undertow, pull itself down and under and up again.
You would let him go. Retract the canines and the pressed finger nails that you had sunk into him when you found him again.
The gasped cries that leave your mouth are uncontrollable, and you thank the waves for concealing them from the foot traffic behind. Your hands shake as you stuff them into your jacket, throat raw and eyes burning as you stagger into the backseat of a taxi.
The driver pauses when he turns his shoulder, bushy eyebrows and eyes that looked like they would be kind if it wasn’t near midnight. He begins to open his mouth but you beat him to it and spit out your apartment address. When the soft melody of “That's Life” sputters out of the radio you close your eyes and press your cheek to the window, murmuring the lyrics into the fogged glass.
-- -
You're stuffing whatever clothes you would need into a bag when your phone rings. You ignore it, try to think of the earliest way to get back to New York that didn't cost an arm, or at least only half.
But your phone doesn't stop, the blaring piano notes shouting at you from where you had thrown it. In truth, you were scared. Scared to flip the screen and see his name, scared to see that it wasn't him. But it rings again and falls off your couch, flips so that the screen blares out anyways.
It's a number you don't recognise, and when you swipe the reciever you hear Tina's voice, or more so the sigh of relief she whispers into the phone.
"Finally. God, baby we were getting worried"
"Tina?"
"You okay baby?" Tina replies softly
You hear rustling in the background, and catch pieces of Richie and Sugars voice calling out before Tina shushes them.
"Yes" You squeeze out from the space between the lodged brick in your throat.
"Oh honey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Carmen was being a fucking idiot yeah? And I don't know what he was thinking, I don't know what happened before we met you. But what I know, what all of us know is that Carmen would be the so foolish to let you go."
"It's over Tina. He- I can't force something he doesn't want" You whimper
"Force? Baby do you know Carmen when he didn't have you? Do you see the way that man watches your every move? Just silently, he has this wonder and concentration when hes cooking. Like his mind is finally blank and he can breath and it's the same, it's the same look he has with you."
"You have him. Completely. Even more so than I think anything ever will. You know that right?"
Your mouth is open, blinking when Tina calls your name
"But, I thought..he let me leave Tina. It isn't like he's been trying to call or reach me-"
"That's probably because he left damn near everything but his shoes runnin' after you"
"What?"
"You think he would just let you leave?" Tina replies, voice high, like she found it the most impossible thing to believe.
“He just stood there in the hallway. Didn’t say a word, left running and we let him. We damn near pushed him out the door. Didn’t even have a jacket on, the mans running around in negative degrees with a white shirt on”
"He is?" You whisper
And you don't have time to hear Tina's reply, because you hear Carmen instead. Outside your door, his voice straining as he begs for you.
You drop your phone to the ground with a shake, and in flashes your at the door, opening it wide until the cold rush of snow hits your nose and you see him beneath you.
He came to you, he came back to you. He’s gripping the door frame on his knees in the snow, chest heaving, cheeks pink and eyes only on you.
You can't speak, eyebrows furrowed as you blink and blink and see his face straining up to you every time.
“Forgive me, forgive me forgive me. I could never leave you, no.” Carmen continues to beg, eyes red and twitching, unblinking when a tear escapes.
“I can never take back what I did to you, what I did to us. That was me, that was me running back to Chicago, running back to Mikey, to try and fix a dead brother”
“I left you there like you weren’t everything”. Carmen lets out an exhaled gasp, like he was just now realising it.
“I was scared, you know? You knew me, you knew me. So when Mikey-when I found out” Carmen shakes his head
“I was something I didn’t know I could be. You were the first- the first person to ever sit in my mind. And then I had to turn dirt over Mikey's casket and suddenly everything I did, everything I saw was him. How could I come back to you, how could I beg you when I wasn’t the same man I was when I left? When I couldn't even breathe, when I was too busy weeping in bathroom stalls to smoke. And I couldn't, I couldn't do it, i just fucking couldn’t.”
You don’t speak, the cold wind as you stare down at him. The feelings, New York, the Bear swirl in front of you, in Carmen's cerulean blues, in his golden hair darkened by the snow, in the slope of his neck as he looks at you.
You can’t run from it anym-
“But I know better now. I lost you once and I won’t let it happen again. I’ll stay out here all night until you have to step over my corpse in the snow I swear it. I’ll die out here waiting for you”.
“I was getting bad, and you knew it. And I fought you on it because I have a problem with people pointing out the truth. I didn't want to accept I needed to slow down, it was just I finally had this thing, this piece of me I made you know? And every night, every time I would enter the door I’d walk into the bathroom and puke. I-I was so sure, so sure it would end up ruined.”
“That aint an excuse, fuck it isn’t. What I did, I can't take back” Carmen shakes his head
“I hurt you, I hurt you. Left you all alone in that apartment, made you think I didn’t love you, a fucking coward. I never stopped, even when I promised myself I wouldn't come back to look for you. I would let you go after Mikey, after what I did.”
“But at night I would dream of you, I would keep pieces of you, like it was strapped to my fucking chest. The guilt wasn’t enough, it didn't stop me needing any part of you I could remember. Didn’t stop me standing in the middle of a fucking grocery isle smelling the soap you used to use”
“Then I blinked and I could kneel and press my face into your skin instead. And I didn’t say anything because I had you again- how fucked up is that? I should have told you to run away, to leave, I should have begged you too. But I didn't, I can’t. It’s selfish and cruel but I have to have you, in whatever way you can give me.
He's breathing heavily now, palm pressed against his chest as he grinds his jaw and lets the tear spill a trail down his neck.
“Now every night I dream of you. I hope I'm haunted by you leaving me. So I know what I need when I wake up.”
And you don't know how, you don't know how that part of you slips out from its stitched imprint on your heart and melts away. Melts away like the snow under your feet when you step out onto your porch. And you don’t say anything, you don't have to really, Carmen watches you. Watches the way your face twists and changes and crawls up your body to hold you into him.
-- -
“Are you sure about this Carm?” You turn your head.
Carmen simply wraps the scarf tighter around your neck as he nods, killing the engine and leans against the driver's seat.
“You should've been there, at the funeral you know?”
“He was your brother Carmen”
“Exactly” Carmen exhales sharply, grinding his jaw as his eyes shift to the cemetery car park outside. Out into the field of snow, with their stone heads poking through, the few stragglers walking across the path.
It’s silent, just your cold breaths leaving smoked exhales in the space of the car.
“Haven't visited him since the funeral.”
“Could hardly even stand up straight then, when I first heard about it- felt so heavy. Like I was sinking into the ground”.
“And I had this headache.” Carmen swallows
“No no it wasn't a headache really, it was- it was just the weight of him in my mind. The memory of him you know? An anchor, just dragging me down, trying not to crumble and fall and just stay there. Always there, always reminding me, he'd cover my eyelids when I tried to fall asleep. Just flashes of him, his hair, his shoulders.”
“One time I chased after a man, while I was at the farmers market for one of our new menus, I chased after him through the crowd thinking it was Mikey. I chased after the nape of his neck and in that short moment, where the fear and anxious and hopeful delusion drove me to that? I had him.”
“And then I remembered, and so I can’t come here. I couldn’t. How could I when he would refuse to leave my mind? My fucking temple.”
“Carm” You whisper
“But I'm here now. Because you are also. And I think that headache has started to make room for it. For you. Only you. And maybe I'll start to remember him differently, in the back, warm and sad all the same. But I’d have you to remember, you to have as well”.
And so you did. You and Carmen stepped out into the gravelled road, leading to the polished footpath. Until you stop at the stone engraving of Mikey, and you hold Carmen when he crumbles slowly to the floor. And you sit with him until the snow melts and his cracked cries slow. Until the leaves turn and the stone ages and your children recognise Mikey as the man their dad talks to every Friday.
This is an idea that’s been on my mind lately because Carmy would be so protective and would 100% treat his gf like a princess, so I thought I’d send it in ifs it’s okay!!🤧
Can I please request Carmy x fem!reader where it’s based off the song “Treat You Better”, where she’s one of his chefs, and Carmy has a biiiig soft spot for her, like soft smiles, hand on the small of her back. Y/n is veryyyy soft spoken and quiet, a very stark contrast to the rest of The Beef/The Bear staff. The staff absolutely love her and are super protective of her: She’s best friends with Sydney (also she’s around the same age as Syd, early 20s), Tina sees her as a daughter, Marcus is always trying to make her laugh and asks her to try his pastries, Richie is more gentle with her than he is with everyone else, Ebra has a calmness around Y/n, Sugar (when she stops by) loves treating Y/n like the little sister she never had, and Carmy… Carmy is head over heels for Y/n. He’s so soft and gentle with her, never raising his voice at her in the kitchen, and he always has the cutest nicknames for her🤧. However… Y/n has a boyfriend, they all know it, and they all share an extreme dislike for him. He’s not very nice, and it all goes to a boiling point when they spot bruises, Y/n letting her hair fall over her face.🥺 Tina and Sydney probably noticing right as she walks in one morning, then the rest of the staff noticing too, the whole kitchen getting eerily quiet, Carmy pulling her aside to his office to talk to her, holding Y/n in his arms while she cries🥺 Carmy 100% taking his bat and beating the crap out of her bf… Now ex, and he offers for Y/n to stay with him because she has nowhere to go? Their relationship growing after that? Y/n kissing him one day, shook at herself, but he kisses her back?
July in November
carmen berzatto x fem! reader
warnings: heavy domestic abuse, controlling fiance, swearing, violence, carmen goes gives absolute no regard for felonies, (assumed) unrequited love, self deprecation, victim blaming
a/n: this entire fic is just time skips l swear, I've written something similar here as well if you liked this which i hope you did! dv is a heavy subject, and not something to trivialise. if you or someone you know is going through dv, please reach out x
banner from @firefly-graphics
The streaks of concealer do little to hide the bloom of dark purples and blues.
They stretch out, clawing up your side and past your ribs, shades of overlapping blotched bruises that were not yet healed.
You were a chef trained in Oslo for god sake, you had friends and family who loved you- and you let out a laugh when the words come out pathetic and dull.
You were right where he left you.
You suppose from the continuous uphill of your career, the exhaustion had made it easier to just sit still, let it happen. He had proposed and you had said yes unblinking. It was what he told the countless people at dinner parties he dragged you to in attendance,
“I had finally beat her down enough to finally fall in love with me” He smiled, his eyes shining and his grip on your waist bruising as the people smiled and laughed and you swallowed back his irony.
The cycles of abuse had started before you could truly remember, bouts of angry yelling before the hot dull beat of pain. And he was so kind after, so thoughtful and apologetic, his eyebrows furrowed and his touch gentle as he leaned over you.
Were you still a victim, if you wanted to stay just for the after?
You shake your head, slowly blinking at the reflection of your bloated torso. Peeling away your shirt gently before buttoning up one of your work shirts instead.
Your heart settled when you thought of the Bear. It was your haven, Richie’s rambled drivel, Sugar hovering every so near, Carmen with his eyes and his inked hands and his sweet mouth. It wrapped around you more tightly than those bruises ever could.
You look over to watch your fiancé, fast asleep content with a full stomach and tired fists. He was so vulnerable like that, and the feeling of anger unfurls in your gut. For once, just one time you wanted him to feel it, that gut wrenching frightened feeling.
You look over to the stone doorstep near his desk, the stupid thing that he had revered at one of his art conventions that was left keeping the door open. You wonder, just for a second, what it would feel like to lean over him with it between your hands, waiting for the slight blink of his eyes that clear away the sleep.
Watch the fear melt into them, and smashing his fucking face with it.
You breathe deeply, arranging your hair so it is out of your face, flattening out the creases in your shit and avoiding your stomach as you stood up and grabbed your bag.
“Where are you going”
You blink, hands gripping your work bag as his voice bellows “Work”
“Huh. We need to sort that out soon”
You stopped, closing your eyes as you fiddled with the loose threads from the shoulder strap. You knew this conversation, where he would bring up another thing in your life he wanted to talk about, as if your relationship was built on a solid base of understanding and conversation. You would wait until his voice would ripen with jealousy and rage, where thinly veiled inquisition would fall away and reveal what he truly wanted.
You had given him enough of your life, let him change and control it. But you would soon let yourself be buried then let him take this too from you. No fucking way.
“Sure”
You pass by the door, pushing the stone to the side. It wasn’t heavy at all.
It’s when you enter the back door of the Bear do you realise you’ve spent your whole commute over holding your breath.
The smells of sauces and expensive meats lulls your anxiety into a mummering tremble, and you sigh softly to yourself as you sling your bag into your locker.
You can already hear Richie arguing, and the tired voice of Carmen biting back and you want to slap yourself for all the times you had grown annoyed at them. What you would give to hear them always, to feel this level of safety and comfort without the overhanging timer of when you would eventually have to leave.
You nod towards Sydney, carrying a large tray of roasted pecans over to Sam, her braids intricately wrapped around her head.
The walkway is framed with pictures of the family, from Mickey to the recent Polaroids of Sugar's newborn. You notice a framed picture of the team from years ago, when you had first started working at the Bear. You’re squished between Carmen and Fak, the backdrop of a renovating Bear behind you all.
The timidiness of being new had not left then, and despite the family enveloping you as their own you had wondered why Carmen had chosen you out of all the decorated chefs that had surely applied. You had asked him this once, after an exhausting dinner rush and he had simply looked up at you from his plate of stolen steak and eggs.
“You’ve got something, Kid. Maybe it’s because you hadn’t yet gotten the light beaten out from the culinary world but I need that. Need someone who pushes against the boundaries you know?”
You had stayed quiet as he talked
“And you’re a local. Boston isn’t for the faint of heart, you know your diners better than they know themselves. Call it prejudice, I call it a safety cushion.“
You wondered what she would think of you now, her wide eyed dream so close you could see her tight grip on her chef coat in the grainy photograph.
You follow the noise of the crew into the kitchen, when Carmen is hunched over a chopping board and Richie is pointing out problems in the seating arrangement for tonight.
He exhales, ready to start another contingent when he spots your figure walking through the entryway.
“Finally. Someone fucking competent in this place”
“Hey Richie” You smile, tightening your apron before biting back a wince. The darkness of your life outside of the Bear had a way of seeping in at times, you had grown too comfortable.
“Hey baby, you good? yeah?” Richie replies
“Richie-“ Carmen interrupts, turning his head to face you for the first time in an hour (which you did not realise but Riche surely did)
“Fuck off. Fuck you. You sure baby? Need me to get you somethin? I got a pack of Marlboros if you need a break”
“Leave her alone, dammit Richie, and a cigarette this early?”
“Oh! Oh! The addict wants to act holier than thou all of a sudden. Just because you slapped on a couple Nic patches-“
“It’s gum and it’s fucking working asshole”
“The L hold you up?” Richie says, throwing the finger at Carmen
“No, no, um, just got in a little fight with David” You reply, cutting your eyes away from him.
Richie rolls his eyes with a groan, a sour expression filters over his face in flash at the mention of your fiance’s name.
“That fuckin’ guy, I swear that boyfriend of yours” Richie groans
“It was my fault really.”
You notice Carmen’s movements stop abruptly, the chopping growing silent with his back turned to you.
“I highly doubt that” Carmen grumbles, before Tina and Sydney come through the door
“Hey, why were you late you missed out on that guy who tried fighting Fak-”
“Her stupid fucking boyfriend”
“Easy” Carmen replies, turning to face you again
“Hey, c’mon Carmen you of all people know that man does not deserve her one fucking bit”
“Darling you need to get rid of that man I’m telling you, he ain't treating you the way you deserve. There's no good keeping an angry man” Tina chides, eyebrows raised as she wipes her fingers on the cloth draped over her shoulder.
“Yeah, he's a dick. And he’s always just…hovering when he comes.” Sydney replies
“And always talk in this condescending tone, adding random words to sound smarter than he is” Marcus’s voice interjects, peeking from around the pastry corner
“Like pseudo-intellectual goddamn-” Tina grumbles, in lightning speed
“Yuppie” Fak continues, and Tina nods
“All I’m saying doll, is that if you end up dumpin’ him we’d be right behind ya’. Might throw a little party here, a small one…how much does it cost to hire some fireworks?”
“Ease up guys, her love life ain’t got nothing to do with us alright. Let the girl be” Carmen voice bellows “And we got work to do”
He turns to the rest of them, shaking his head feigning annoyance at the team gathering together to gossip. And yet, his hands grip his towel tight enough to leave them white, and his teeth grind against his molars when he thinks of your boyfriend.
You don’t know how they'd react when they find out he proposed, you can’t exactly hide a ring.
“Hey” You smile towards Carmen, who’s twisted features blink into resolve when he hears you
“Hey” He nods, wincing as he pressed his fingers to his temple gingerly.
“Still got that headache?”
“I’ll be fine, just wish it would save the eye stabbing until after dinner service”
“Here”
“I’m alright-“
“Take it” you repeat, pressing some pain killers in his hand.
Carmen nods gratefully, hands clasped around yours for a second longer. Before they part.
He eyes the pills, and for a second you see this puzzled look gleam across his eyes.
He pops them in his mouth, you let out a breath from your chest quietly.
You kept your work and home life separate, Carmen didn’t need nor should carry the burden of this ugly secret that paints you from the inside out.
You had a lid on it. You were sure.
You let yourself get lost in the ingrained memory of moving around the kitchen, letting the slice of your knife against the flesh of meat and fruit melt away everything you had been shouldering the past year.
It gets busy, really busy, Richie and Carmen fail to cohabitate in the hours of the dinner service, multiple plates are dropped, you almost can’t keep up with the never ending orders coming in but its also fucking amazing. The rush of delivering every component of a plate in time, making sure the meat is cooked until just right, making sure the sauce isn't runny, it feels like dancing.
Your legs and arms ache, you have a headache and your apron is stained and you can’t tell the difference between the end of the dinner service and hitting the last step of a choreographed dance.
The high that buzzes through your body is mirrored by everyone around you, and you take a second to sink in that feeling of euphoria as the last tables are cleared.
“That was..” You start, un-hunching your shoulders as the rest of the team look up in a daze, surrounding the kitchen
“Fuckin’ amazing, might be our best night yet” Richie grins, bobbing his chin as it rests on his hands
“That was good..we could've been a bit better at turning the tables-” Carmen murmurs
“Oh c’mon Carmy, we can talk about the finalities later but even you can admit that was pretty good” Sydney calls out, leaning her head against the door frame, as exhausted pulls at her every feature
“Yeah…yeah it was good”
“No one go anywhere, I’ve got left over schnitzel and potatoes and I know none of you have taken a break”
“How long has it been since we’ve sat down for family?” Tina mumbles, wiping her stained apron tiredly
“Too long, I don’t mind fixin’ it up” You stretch out your arms, unbuttoning your chef's coat and folding it neatly, despite Sugar throwing them into the sink to soak for the night later.
“I’ll help” Carmen nods to you, doing the same with his apron. His dark crew neck that sticks to him reveals with every button, outlining the indentations of his chest and biceps.
Family usually consists of throwing whatever leftovers from the night's dinner service onto a large plate and proceeding to throw some forks near it. There had been a long trail of food combinations that either delighted the crew or had you throwing your towel in and going to the taco truck nearby.
Today however, the night had gone so well and had distracted you even better. You could at least make up some plates, make ‘em look pretty or whatever else your hands had been trained to do.
The rest of the team move the tables to form one large spanning diner in the middle of the Bear, the scrape of wood against flooring is all that fills the air as you and Carmen work silently. You’re good together, that sort of chemistry that only comes with understanding a person so well you can anticipate their next move. And the night feels like a dance again, moving left and right, handing him pieces of chicken and spoonfuls of sauce, wiping plates clean and centering them right.
It’s only when Richie comes tumbling through the double doors does it cause Carmen to jump, spilling the ladle of hot gravy across your shirt. You wince, Carmen lets out a garbled grunt and Richie cringes.
Carmen is quick, reaching for a nearby cloth as he begins to lift up your shirt gingerly. The sauce isn't boiling, but there is a slight stinging heat that radiates across your midsection and you're too distracted and uncomfortable that you forget yourself, and let Carmen reveal you.
It takes Carmen a second, he's pulling your shirt up just below your underbra, and his fingers pause against the fabric.
You’re confused just for a moment, but it stretches out, and you let yourself sit in the fantasy of unknowing, you let yourself imagine a life where what was sprawled across your skin was just the remnants of a soggy shirt and irritated skin.
The truth of it hits you when you watch Carmen's face change in front of you.
“What the fuck?”
“Don’t-”
“What?” Richie calls, coming closer before throwing his head back
“Jesus fuckin' christ kid”
“I-I we got into a fight-“
“A fight? He beat you!”
“You don’t understand-”
“Maybe I don’t but this-“ Carmen gestures to the welts and colours that paint your stomach “Is one of the worst things I’ve seen in a long time”
Carmen’s hands are still gripping your shirt, the rag dropped to the floor between you now as you lower your head and let your hair cover your eyes.
“I’m sorry-“ You croak out, tongue heavy and eyes blurring with tears.
“Sorry-?” Carmen circuses down to meet your eyes incredulously “You’re sorry? Why are you fucking sorry, look what he fucking did to you!- what has he done to you?”
“Hey hey, honey you need to tell us what happened. This isn’t right, no fight can justify this” Richie whispers, crouching near you as he watches Carmen carefully.
“It was an accident”
“Do you truly believe that?” Richie murmurs softly, and you look up with a furrow of your brow.
You turn to Carmen whose face is twisted in anger, his eyes on your midsection, his hands around your sides and around you.
“I don’t know anymore..I’m just so tired” You whimper, your throat growing tight as Carmen’s brows furrow, blinking and grinding his jaw
“I’m going to fucking kill him-“
“Hey, Carmen wait just- wait” Richie is quick to reach Carmen as he rears back
“Look at her- he can’t-FUCK”
“I know, and we will. I want to break his goddamn legs but we got to think of her. We need to get her out of this, we need to think about her first”
Carmen closes his eyes as you watch their interaction, and he turns to you as you blink the tears that drop down your cheek. He frowns and waits for your approval and you nod, and Richie lets go of him and he gathers you in his arms and lets you cry the last of your resolve on his shoulder.
You don’t tell him anything, and he doesn’t ask. He lets you wet his shoulder as the silence that sits in the kitchen is consumed by your muffled cries instead.
The commotion causes the rest of the team to flood in, putting the pieces together when they see your shoulders shaking with grief and your unbuttoned top. The bear hung with the sick reality of a beat woman, and the once hungry crew now felt the nauseous image in front of them fill their stomach.
Sydney is the one that eases you out of Carmen’s arms, and pulls your hair back as she whispers apologies into your ear. She takes you to the emergency room to make sure nothing is broken. When the nurses greet you by name she waits until you're in the examination room before sobbing into Tina’s arms.
“How did I not notice, I see her every goddamn day, how did I not notice he was hurting her?”
“Don’t do that, don’t blame yourself. There is only one person to blame”
The rest of the team follows, and they all sprawl across the waiting room, heads between their hands.
After one of the junior doctors gives you the all clear, and Carmen and Richie follow up on the police report you make your way down the linoleum hallway in the crumbled stained shirt that had started this all.
You blink as you watch the faces of everyone you love look up in worry, exhaustion is written into their bones and still they sit in the too small waiting chairs for you. You had never felt a love like that before, so profound and overwhelming clear and you breathe it in deeply like it's the last thing you’ll taste.
“I’m so sorry-”
“Don’t you fuckin dare-”
“I know, I know, just please hear me.”
They relent, and you wait until they all nod towards you before continuing
“You guys have taken me as your own, made me feel a part of something greater than myself. I don’t want you to think I was unloved” Your voice heightens with the wet tears that fill your throat
“Every single time I came through those doors I felt it okay? I never understood the power of it, of love, but I feel it now and I felt it then. It just got muddled in the middle of all of this, of all the things I keep hidden. And that is my fault, but you guys, the Bear? You guys kept me alive” You whisper the last part, your voice caught in your throat as you try to still the shake your hands.
“You did nothing wrong baby, nothing. It’s hard to leave isn’t it? It’s hard to even say it” Ebra is the first one to whisper, holding your hands gently and carefully. You look at him, as his eyes gleam with the heaviness of his past and you don’t quite understand how, but you believe he knows that well.
“We’re your family, whatever it is that you're dealing with we shoulder it to, we carry that burden. That is what we're here for, and you can take all the time that you need. Let us help you, but you know what happens now, yes?” Richie murmurs
“I need to get out”
“Damn fucking right you do. And fast, I know it's going to be hard but you need to act like everything is normal. Get in, pack a bag and get out.”
You breathe in deeply, remembering all the half packed duffle bags that had been left near the door. This time you wouldn't be able to back out, this time Carmen would make sure of it.
“Where’s Carmen?” You suddenly say, and Richie shifts his gaze to the exit sign.
“Maybe give him a few moments Kid” Richie murmurs, but you ignore him, moving quickly towards and out of the doors into the smoking area in the alleyway.
You spot him hunched over, back against the stone wall, trails of grey smoke filters from his mouth as you tsk loudly when you near him.
He raises his head up, widening his eyes before looking down at the cigarette.
“You were doing so good” You smile softly
“Yeah? Felt like pulling teeth, not grabbing for one every couple hours.”
“But those chewing gums”
Carmen shakes his head “Don’t tell Rich, but they were fucking disgusting”
You let out a hearty laugh, leaning back on the wall beside him.
Carmen takes one last deep drag, before pressing the butt of the stick into the wall that isn't near you.
It’s silent, and you feel him watching you for a long time before his voice replies in a croaky tear filled tone you had never heard come out of his mouth before.
“Goddamn it kid”
“I know” You reply instantly, the tears that you thought had left you were big fat liars.
“I want to blame myself, I will for a long time but this isn’t about me is it”
You shake your head furiously, it was so far apart from him.
“What can I do? What can I do to make it better?” Carmen whispers, turning to face you fully now, eyes red and blonde curls messy across his brows.
“It’s not something you can fix Carm, you just got to let me do it. Let me walk away completely”
Carmen grits his teeth, “I should’ve made more attention-”
“How? Between renovating the Bear, organising the menu, fucking opening and maintaining the dinner service every night?”
Carmen shakes his head and you tug at his arm gently
“I didn’t let you notice Carm, I hid it well sometimes I even forgot about it. The bear, you? You let me forget, you let me feel so safe I forgot what he was doing to me”
Carmen reaches for your hand, holding onto it gently
You shake your head, shaking the tears along with it. You hadn’t so much as let yourself hear the truth of what had been happening, but it flowed out of your mouth like a river into Carmen.
“He got drunk one night” You whisper, biting your cheek as you bristle at the memory of it
“He got drunk one night, and started accusing me of these horrible things. Things I would never do. And when I tried talking to him he just turned to me with this look in his eyes, and it was so unlike him Carm. It was like someone else had come and taken his body, and his voice and his mouth”
“And when I reached for him he reached back. And then I suppose I got used to being afraid of him”
“I don’t know what changed that night, but it did. Or maybe he had always been that way and I had been to blind by the feeling of being wanted that I ignored it. But it got worse, he hit me, but he started controlling what I was doing. Always flinging my phone in my face so that he could look for something that wasn’t there, eyes always scrutinising me when I came home fucking exhausted from the Bear.”
“That was how it started, and I guess it never quite ended” You murmur, and when Carmen drags his thumb across your cheek, you understand the rage that he had kept covered for you.
“I’m going to hurt him. And that's more for me than it is for you, I know it and I don’t care. He doesn't get to walk away.” Carmen replies after a beat, and his voice is even. You can see his anger from before slipping into the darkness of his pupils, but his voice is clear and devoid.
“I know” You murmur
“And you’re going to stay with me till we get you a place. Tina and Syd offered and well the whole team, but I can’t-”
“I know, you can’t put them in danger”
“No. I can’t let it happen, you being alone, him somehow getting to you. You being hurt again-” Carmen shakes his head, grinding his jaw as he cuts his eyes away.
“Okay” You mumble, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your secret that had weighed you down every day fall away.
The month after had passed quicker than any other time in your life. And for that you were grateful. You had packed a bag and moved into Carmen's apartment that night, and he and Richie had made good on their promise. They watched, as well as the rest of the Bear with a sneer as your fiance was carried into the police station, and you watched the mirror of your injuries multiplied across his face.
The police had been slow in taking action, even you know this, so you suppose their tight lipped expressions at the beaten man they found in your trashed apartment made up for that.
Carmen slept near the door for the first two weeks, a bat in his hand and his notebook of recipes filled with scribbled annotations. Tossing and turning enough times, made you wrap your blanket around yourself and join him by the door. You would wake up some nights, in a sweat from the terror of your nightmare imagining him somehow finding you, and you would join him those times as well.
The truth of all that had happened still had not yet been told, and you doubt that it ever will. But you were okay with that, and Carmen was too. And so when your fiance had been tried and sentenced, and the promise of broken bones hung over him even years after, Carmen had made no mention of finding you a place.
And so you stayed, and made a home for yourself. Let your shoes get muddled and clutter the hallway, have your toothbrush besides his own. Move in the last pieces of yourself that had been left in that prison to a place that could maybe change them.
You spent Thursdays with Richie, he’d wait at the foyer for you and he'd take you out for lunch like clockwork. Divulging in your week as he did his, he let you steal some of his cigarettes and you let him ramble to you. Richie had surprised you, when all was said and done. He had known what to do, knew how to talk to you, and you think you credit him to a lot of where you were now. You suppose he blames himself a little as well, so you don’t mind that Thursdays were his way of checking up on you.
You let the team act the same way, Tina bringing you plates of food and tupper wares of lasagna till Carmen's fridge was hard to open, Sydney calling every day, Ebra and Marcus making sure you had someone who could walk you home if Carmen had to stay back. And when you had finally had enough, they nodded and backed away and let you out of their grip.
You're crouched in the fire escape of Carmen's building, passing a bottle of wine that you had snuck from service.
“I visited him today”
“What?” Carmen replies, knowing immediately who you were talking about.
You shrug your shoulders, “I was too much of a mess to confront him, and the court proceedings left me too numb to even face him. But I went today, and I told him. What he had done, how he had changed.”
“But then he laughed and I punched him in his goddamn mouth”
“Atta girl” Carmen grins, his smile filling up the entire bottom of his face.
“So I can’t ever come back to the Boston Corrections facility, and boy am I glad. You know what this means though right?”
“Hm?” Carmen mumbles with a mouthful of street tacos
“You can’t ever get yourself thrown in prison” You chide, and you smile when he throws his head back in laughter
“Seriously Carm?” You bemoan, resting against the living room entryway
“Yes, the bed is strictly meant for you. What do you take me for? Letting a woman sleep on the couch” Carmen gruffs, carefully placing the duvet over the couch cushions.
“It’s been nearly a year since I’ve moved in, Carmen. I don’t think it's ridiculous to assume we can share a bed together”
Carmen grinds his jaw, swallowing back grunt at the thought of sharing a bed with you. As if it was no big thing, as if Carmen would be able to sleep with you next to him.
“It’s called being a host”
“I signed the lease 2 months ago, we’re technically de-facto” You raise your eyebrows, folding your hands across your chest
“The only time I’ll let the government decide what we are is when-if I put a ring on that finger” Carmen replies, the little slip causing him to cut his eyes from you and back to the duvet that was already folded.
You shake your head with a laugh “This you’re way of proposing Carm? Take a girl out for dinner first”
Carmen mumbles under his breath, flattening the duvet with his inked hands before his phone buzzes
“Goddamnit, that’s Richie.
“Leave that sofa and let's go down to meet our friends and have a nice time. God knows we’ve earned more than a few drinks at Nick’s” You reply, swiping Carmen’s phone
“Hey!”
“You weren’t even going to answer him” You roll your eyes.
You send Richie a text that was all apologetic and none grammatically correct as you shuffle out of your work pants into some jeans.
The team was already at the bear, halfway through the first round of drinks and you’d be damned if you let Carmen make the both of you late.
Carmen is in jeans as well, and the white shirt he always dons fits around his chest tightly. You can lie to yourself most days, but in times like this, where you both live in this domestic bubble your mind wanders.
You don’t let it too much.
But when you're visiting family, and you pass by the Louisiana welcome sign planted in the roadway, and the weather gets warm and the nights stretch out you let yourself think of him. You let yourself imagine a life where he was entwined, in you, your life, your days while you drink on the porch of your family home.
The thought of being in anything new scares you to no end, your past finds you in moments you least expect and dredges you down to the same feeling you felt when you were with him.
But Carmen was your past too wasn’t he? He was muddled and interlinked with all the memories that make your chest ache and your hands shake. Carmen didn’t feel new..you had already been living with each other for a year now, and you suppose the way you both flow into each other's lives was no different.
You’d be together, in the way you had always been but different also. You’d get to grow familiar of the taste of him, you’d get to feel him under your skin, beneath your fingers, and he’d sleep in that fucking bed for the first time in a year.
Then the sun would dip below the horizon, the sounds of the insects and birds would come back to you, and the creeping shadow of guilt and insecurity would remind you of who you were again.
You’d taste the bitter embarrassment of forcing Carmen to be that way with you, throwing your head back as you gulp down the beer in your hand as you try to stave away the taste. The dream disappears each time from you, like the oranges and reds that paint the Louisiana sky every evening.
“Hey, we going or what?” Carmen says, his eyes narrowing at, you noticing the way your eyes glaze over.
“Yeah, yes” You nod, swallowing the thoughts of him quickly as you finish tying your boots and let Carmen lock the door behind you.
The bar is surprisingly crowded on a Tuesday night, and you have to squeeze past crowds of leather wearing bikers before finally seeing the team seated in a long booth at the back.
“Finally!” Richie yells, hands in the air and his beer swishing out of the neck.
“We were about to send a search party” Tina smiles, looking toward you with a glint in her eyes when she notices Carmen’s arm at your back.
“Aren’t you guys like, a 2 minute walk from this place? Fak got here before you” Marcus replied, his old fashioned nursed in your arms.
“I had no involvement in our tardiness, he was too busy fixing his makeshift couch bed”
“Oh don’t tell me your still sleeping on that” Richie’s eyes widen
“You know that ain’t even a good couch right? We found it on the side of the road-“
“It’s not good for your back Carmen, all those cushions” Ebra shakes his head disapprovingly.
“It’s perfectly fine Ebra, and who would I be if I let a woman sleep on the couch?” Carmen grumbles, as both slide into the booth next to Sydney.
“I mean, there is an easy straightforward solution” Sydney murmurs, and everyone turns to her quickly.
“You could both just sleep in the same bed together” She replies, after looking at everyone dumbfounded.
“Only married people share a bed, that’s Sicilian tradition”
“Yeah, mixing work and personal life isn’t-“
“Mixing? They already live together!” Sydney replies, defensively.
“Wouldn’t be surprised if they’re already” Four murmured, before snapping his mouth closed when Carmen narrows his eyes to him.
“It’s not about fucking tradition, or whatever. I’m not gonna put her-you in that situation and make you uncomfortable”
“Why would you make me uncomfortable?” You murmur without thinking, and the booth goes quiet.
Carmen shakes his head, blinking as you remain quiet.
You wince at the silence, maneuvering your body quickly out of the booth as you almost fall out.
“Uh-I’m going to get a drink” You reply quickly
Carmen's body isn’t fast enough for his legs and he stands up from his position on the booth quickly, almost tumbling over.
“I’ll come with you”
You shake your head, forcing a tight smile as you wave him off.
“It’s okay, I know your order” You reply quickly, turning around without seeing the look on Carmen’s face.
You slide into one of the vacant barstools, signalling to the bartender as they make the rounds across the counter.
The rows of silver bracelets that hang around the bartender's wrists cling as they mix and shake drinks, and you let yourself get lost in the glittering light show of them reflecting off the bar lights. They distract you enough to not notice the man that now leers over you.
You flinch when you feel his hand touch your shoulder, and when you turn expecting one of the guys from the Bear you're taken back when you're met with a five o clock shadow and a stink of vodka.
“What's a girl like you doin’ all alone?”
“I’m good” You grit out from between your teeth
“Oh c’mon, you girls love to play hard but what you really need-”
“I said leave me alone asswhole” You spit, roughly moving his latched fingers from your shoulder.
The man sneers, his voice growing louder and sloppy as he begins to swear at you. His hands find their way to your waist, and the shiver of disgust turns into a familiar sharp pain as you shout out.
“You fucking bitch” The man starts, before you see the flash of dirty blonde curls cover your vision and the feeling of his fingers around you is wrenched off.
Carmen’s hands are around his neck, and he slams him into the wooden floors of the Bar with ease. He holds him there before turning to look up at you, his eyes blown out and his eyebrows furrowed behind his curls. Your chest heaves as you meet his gaze, and you watch as his eyes trail down your body, almost surveying the extent of your injuries and filing it into his mind so that it is all he thinks about when he breaks the skin across his knuckles.
You watch Carmen work, watch the way his shoulders and back contorts under every movement that lands a punch into the man's face. The buzzing chatter of the bar increases, as people begin to take notice of the shouts of frazzled swears and slobby slurs that leave the man's mouth. Someone screams there is a fight, and the bartender mutters obscenities as they try to push through the crowd.
Carmen lands punch after punch into his face, with no real sense of stopping as his movements grow more and more crazed with every crack of skin and dribble of blood that paints his hands. Carmen's eyes look determined, like he had a goal to all of this, and when Richie and the rest of the team pushes past the crowd and shouts out to him to stop, he looks up at you do you know.
You didn’t get to see what he had done to your husband, or how. But now, he takes his time with the man under him who kicks and fails, blubbering out blood and drool. He continues to stare at you, and the rest of the patrons look on in horror as the man under Carmen becomes disguised by the brutality of Carmens fists across his body. You hear the crack of bone, and when the man screams out a loose and garbled apology from the swollen tongue of his mouth, does Carmen flick his eyes down to him.
“You’re sorry? Yeah?” Carmen murmurs, softly
The man nods eagerly, his mouth filling with blood and his eyes swollen
“I’m not sure I believe that” Carmen replies, sending his foot into the mans stomach as he keels over
“Okay, Carmen that's enough” Richie calls out
“All I did was ask her a question!” The man screams out, his words jagged and unclear
“Hey, you shut the fuck up” Richie replies, before clocking his head to try and meet Carmens gaze who is back on you
“Look man, I get it. That one time wasn’t enough, but you can’t keep doing this”
Carmen grinds his teeth, as you look on in awe as his knuckles bleed violently, throwing his arm up and swinging down onto the man.
You got what you needed from this, and so when you step closer to Carmen and turn your head to the side you can only think of one thing
“I’m banned for at least 12 months”
You watch his fingers loosen around the man's bloody shirt, and Carmen wipes his hands across the man's chest before slowly straightening up from his crouched position.
“Get the fuck out, the both of you before the cops get here” The bartender grits out, shaking his head.
Carmen nods, “I’m not fucking sorry”
“Yeah yeah I know” The bartender rolls his eyes, before you grab Carmen's arm and push through the gawking faces of onlookers
You find a door leading out to a side alleyway, and you both fall out from the door into a combined heap.
“I had to do it okay? The way he was looking at you and that fucking hand around your side I couldn’t just let him-“ Carmen starts, chest heaving up and down and the splatter of spit and blood across his jaw
You don’t let him finish the rushed words that fall out of his mouth before you cover it with your own. Gripping onto the loose collar of his shirt, you drink down the anger and violence that had been festering on the both of you.
Carmen tastes sweet, like the cranberry jus he had been preparing, and rough too, like his worn workmen jacket and the pepper taste of his nicotine gum.
You realise then that you would never taste something as great as that, and that you would be chasing the feeling of how Carmen’s lips against your own vibrates through you from head to foot.
You pull away with quickness, chest heaving and eyes wide as you feel Carmen’s mouth warm your chest.
Carmen doesn’t blink, he stares at you, the brittle Chicago winter blowing his hair across his forehead and the distant sound of sirens and he stares at you.
“I’m not sorry” You whisper, pressing your lips together
“Good” Carmen replies before you’ve even uttered the last word.
And when you blink the cold smoke of his breath is over you again, his inked fingers cradle your head and he takes your mouth again.
You don’t stop the crash of your open mouths and dipping tongues until the warmth of Carmen covers you entirely, until November in Chicago feels like July.
I have a sort of angsty hurt to comfort idea for Carmy 😈 Okay but Claire coming back into his life and obviously you’re both dating, but maybe sort of feeling a little bit left out and feeling guilty for feeling a little insecure because you know Carmen’s loyal and Claire seems like a lovely person. Not saying anything because you obviously want him to be happy and you know there’s a part of you that’s being irrational. But THEN, maybe for whatever you also personally know Luca! Perhaps from something work related or had mutual friends and then maybe getting back into contact with him through Marcus and really hitting it off with him and having a respectable normal healthy friendship with him, but Carmy’s on the side going “What the cinnamon toast FUCK is this”. And it culminates in an argument which ultimately leads the both of you to opening up and discussing boundaries and airing out insecurities, and just being super vulnerable and communicating with one another
Love and War (I)
warnings; claire, arguing, threats of violence, anxiety, my writing
i had like 4 different versions of how this story was supposed to go, hope you enjoy the one i finally let see the sun
a/n: yeah...so shit hit the fan and kind of derailed my life for 6 months. I hope you will forgive me, i feel like an absentee father. (part two will be posting right after i swear!)
divider by @firefly-graphics
You aren't jealous.
You have never experienced the slimy green devil in any of your past relationships, so you shouldn't feel it now.
Your mind isn't fond of what it should feel however, and instead, you feel a burning ache begin to burst through your chest as you watch Carmen nod excitedly at Claire in the Beef’s front dining space. It disgusts you, how this feeling wraps around your heart like sludge. You've been trying to focus on prepping for the new menu, gathering different ensembles of compotes and sauces, but your eyes always finds it’s way back to them.
And her.
Claire had burst into Carmen’s life seemingly out of nowhere, and it took one exchange between you both to know it was different. Claire had something you didn't with Carmen, a past, and the discomforting feeling of being on the outside looking in was all that blared in your mind the past few weeks since her appearance.
It wasn’t like Claire was rude, no that would have made this feeling easier to bear. She was nice, for god sake. The only person in Chicago who it seemed had not yet gotten all their goodness sucked out, and she had to have been Carmen's old friend. And a friend was all she was, so why did you- why are you jealous?
She knows him better than you do.
You shake the thought out of your mind so furiously the container in your hand spills onto the cutting board. You weren't going to go there, not when Carmen hadn't done anything wrong.
You wanted him to have friends, to broaden his circle from beyond just the Beef and Sugar, who you made sure to point out didn't exactly count. So you should be happy, ecstatic even, that he was able to reconnect with someone that had known him for so long.
But she had known him for so long.
And you know you're being irrational and hypocritical and you know you can’t own someone else, but maybe there was a part of you that liked that you had him all to yourself.
Carmen was different. To your other relationships, your other friendships, everything. You and Carmen danced around your feelings for so long that when it exploded into heated kisses and confessions of love one night after a dazzling dinner service, it had already felt like you had been with him for years.
And Carmen was devoted to you, he sang it into your skin every chance he got. It was just that those chances had begun to dwindle day after day the more Claire came around, until you had begun to detest the sound of her name leaving his mouth.
Steeping your fingers in cold water, you wipe them hastily no your aprosn before making your way over to them both. Fixing your face from quivering lips into a tight smile.
You wipe your messy hands in your apron, steeping your fingers before making your way over to them both. Fixing your face, you pull your quivering lips into a tight smile.
“Hey, Claire. How are you doing?”
“Oh hey! Good good, Carmen was just telling me about this cool hole in the wall down 85th.”
“Ruth’s Bar?”
“Yes! That’s the one. They really do saffron popcorn there?” Claire replies, eyes bulging.
“Yep, mix it in with a little alcohol and then pour it into the butter. Entertainment is almost too good that you forgot about how amazing it smells though”
“We should go out some time!”
“Definitely. Carmen, were you alright with Thai tonight?”
“Oh” Carmen replies, scratching the back of his head
He forgot.
“Yeah, sorry hun I promised to take Claire to-”
“This new fusion place! I saw it online and Carmen offered to take me.
You voice pitter and curls as you gulp down the innate urge to reply with a deadpan ‘What?”.
“Oh. Ah- okay. What’s the place?” You reply, your voice on the verge of shaky as you blink through Claire, watching to see if there was any semblance of guilt in Carmen.
There wasn't, he was taking her out on a night reserved for you to. As if they hadn't spent nearly everyday together, as if Claire hadn’t imprinted her ass on the bar chair’s sharing pieces of things you never could with him.
“It’s called Route Creale?” Claire replies, excitedly, obviously to the sour expression on your face as she butchers the name of the restaurant.
“La Route Créole” You correct, almost unconsciously.
Practiced from the amount of times you had excitedly to Carmen about the Trinidan-French fusion place, looking through the menu together, huddled over your cracked phone screen in the early morning in your bed. Listing of dishes and dishes that made you squeal in delight.
You had told Carmen how bad you wanted to go, how bad you wanted both of you to try it together, and instead, instead he takes her.
He takes her.
“Easy, not everyone has spent months as the head Poissonnier in Port Of Spain” Carmen jokes, head tilting as you stammer, eyes focused on the floor.
“What the hell is a Poissonnier” Claire replies giggling
And as Carmen clarified to her, gripping her arm as he rambles on the importance of the distribution of fucking cooking stations your mind kind of skips.
It falls over itself like a misshapen piece of the sidewalk. Your eyebrows are screwed and you're looking at Carmen looking at Claire. For a second you are confused, wholeheartedly and entirely confused to the very marrow of your being. Who was this person in front of you? It couldn’t have been your Carmen.
Your Carmen who wrote you letters left on food packages and stuffed in your locker. Your Carmen who would follow you around like a lost puppy, enthralled by your every move. Your Carmen who sung you to sleep in horrible drunken renditions of “Livin on a prayer”.
Jesus he knew every part of you, every inch of yourself like a road map, forks and branched roots across your skin. You hug your mid section tightly, fingers digging through the cotton of your button chef shirt.
No, no. Someone must have come in and taken his face, his clothes, his mouth.
But he smells like him, the same deep scent of cocoa and burnt cigarettes. You could press your lips to his, but you don’t know if he’d like that anymore.
You know when someone is slipping away, you’re not one to guard your food like a stray dog. And no matter how hard you want to sink your teeth into him and not let go, you don’t have a choice.
The squealed sound of Claire rips you from your reverie, and your eyes shoot up to catch her grip Carmen's shoulder, her head tilted back and eyes squirmed shut in laughter. The ripple of jealous rage that bursts through every limb in your body causes you to subtly turn on your heel, rushing out of the suffocating stench of betrayal.
Fingers digging to unlace your apron that feels as if like a vice around your chest, unheard to the inquisitive shouts of Richie and Syd, until you hear the slam of the backdoor behind you.
Your leg jitters as you walk around in circles, grinding your jaw as visions of Claire and Carmen flash in your mind. Fisting the washcloth in your hand till your knuckles turn white, you stuff your face into it, masking the scream of festered anger that rips from your throat.
You’re pathetic, you don't get to feel jealous. Carmen would never even think of it, of betraying you. But he also wouldn't have taken the very restaurant you had been gawking at for the past month and taken someone else to it. Right in your face.
You don’t know if he even noticed your abrupt disappearance, your eyes shift to the door, waiting, hoping. Ears perked up at any sound of rushing footsteps to come find you.
Angry tears gather at the waterline when all you hear is the rumbling traffic behind you and the flutter of shrikes above.
You’re not jealous, you’re fuming
You hate it, no, you hate him. You seethe as you're forced to sit in it pushing the adoration and love you have for him to make room for it in your mind. It takes over, overcrowding your brain till you can't hear anything else, where even the buzzing of your phone is unregistered till your thigh begins to itch.
Oh god you told him about those times before, you told him. And he had wiped your tears and kissed your eyelids, damning your past boyfriend who had left you forsaken.
Wiping a hand across your face, you reach down to grasp the metallic slick edges. And the image of Luca flashing across the screen stumps you frozen till it rings out. You hadn't seen him since Denmark, in fact it had been years.
The ping of a text shakes you from the memories of spending months on boats and pastry kitchens in Copenhagen, the gray bubbles appearing on your screen.
“Gonna be in Chicago for a bit, wanna test out if your Mille-Feuille is still up to standard?”
You want to say that you answered Lucas' text in that brief moment out of genuine curiosity. That you would have wanted to see him whether Clair had uprooted your life with Carmen either way.
But you’d be lying to yourself.
The slight drizzle drips down your screen phone, muddying and blurring the Lucas texts till you have to wipe your shirt across it. You hesitate though, you think the blurred messages between you both absolves you of guilt. That it was as if you were lookin through pane fogged glass. But you slide your hand across the screen and it brightens to your eyes, defying every word between you both. You want to see Luca, Carmen had no hesitation when it came to Claire, oh no, he wouldn't think twice before spending the day with her.
Days like today, where you would usually be posted up in Carmens old beaten leather couch, the cushions weaning under your weight as you ate rice steeped in coconut milk and kung pao on plates.
It’s tradition, or it once was. So much of what you held close to your heart had been left to ruins, maimed and disfigured. Pulled from under you when you had thought it sacred, you should have expected this, it was too good. You’ve stewed in your deprecation look enough till it turned bitter, outpouring harsh streaks of anger from your heart instead.
You helped Sydney finish up the last of the next evening's desserts, waving her off with a smile when she had asked about your sudden departure earlier. She ignored the way your hands shook, and you reached for your things and rushed home before she could prod further.
You felt dirty.
Like Carmen was replacing you slowly, out from under you. Did he think you were too stupid to realise? You don’t want to imagine the things shared between them, and yet you do. Scrubbing your skin raw in the shower does little to scratch the memory of them out of your mind.
You’re resting on the edge of your bed, clutching your towel as you look towards your closet. Phone in hand at Lucas' text inviting you to dinner at his place, you turn Carmen’s picture on the dresser face down before reaching into your closet, and pulling out a dress you had forgotten existed.
When you slide the silk fabric onto your body, it feels anew. Like you were a different skin. It flutters at the edges of your calf, long and rich in colour in elegance.
Your hair is left in its natural state, running some products through with your fingers till the sticky crème is gone from between your knuckles. Carmen always loved your hair this way.
So did Luca.
Your time spent in Copenhagen didn't necessarily involve Luca, not at the start anyways. You were reviewing foods around Denmark, a long awaited food tour you had begun saving for before culinary school, and had made a pit stop at a weathered bakery.
It wasn't on your repertoire for your trip, in fact you had thought nothing of it, a transitional spot to grab an espresso and maybe a danish. It had seen better days. The wooden doors stained and creaking as you passed through, inside though, inside was as if you had entered the warmth of someone's heart and soul. Delicate paintings and familial photographs hang on the walls, low lamp lighting, a built-in fireplace that defrosts your fingers wedged in your coat pocket.
The most strange and endearing thing, however, was the bar attached on the same counter as the paned glass display of baked goods. In all your time in food, you had never seen a bakery that doubled as a..brewery? Distilled barrels hitched atop the caramel coloured walls, jugs and glasses perched atop the counter. You weren't necessarily a drinker per se, but the thought of filling your stomach with liquid heat pushed you to shut the door behind you and set your things on the bar counter.
“Now what makes someone as sunny as you walk into the most haggard bakery in all of Copenhagen?” A Brooklyn lilt voice calls from the small entryway into the back kitchen, a tall blonde man wipes his hand on a dishcloth, the tired features of cooking for hours you know to well etched on his face.
You stand right in surprise, you half heartedly expect the embodiment of Hagrid to walk out, and instead New York came bustling through.
“You sure you aren't lost sweetheart? Lookin’ for Noma?”
“I’m told I can get a pint of something hard and dry with my croissant” You murmur, cockling your head to the side “Or does this fine establishment not know how to laminate dough?”
From that moment on, you had spent almost every day in Denmark being guided to the “actually” good food spot in the city. You wanted to deny it, holding your list of restaurants and bakeries you had died to try since your trip to your chest like a rare jewel.
But God did those alleyway Frikadeller’s taste like religion. You wanted to fall to your knees and pledge your devotion.
Still, after you had draine the last of your savings on cider and meatballs your craft was calling to you from the States. Luca had told you things you had not even read in the mountain of textbooks and ‘Pastry 2’ tutorials you were assigned as a student, marveling at the intricacy of pastry and the world of dough.
He had mentioned a Chef he admired, one he wanted you to meet yourself. You wondered all those months who could have bested Luca.
And then you met Carmen.
Time and distance had feathered the brief but all consuming intimacy you and Luca shared. It wasn't like you had shared a bed together, no, it was far more deeper than that. You both shared the unraveling layers of your joint obsession;
Food.
It tethered you to each other so finely that even now, after years of no contact, you knew you would fall back into the same rhythmic dance you once had those years before.
It shakes the nerves from your body when you finally rack your knuckles against Luca’s restaurant door.
“Comin, comin, don’t break down the door” Luca’s silky voice laments from deep within the restaurant, before the iron door opens and you’re met with golden streaked hair and a wine stained apron.
“Why is it that every time I see you, you've got something stained on your face” You smile
“It’s the Lucas charm, what can I say” or “Oh please, you eat whatever caused those stains.”
“You say this now, but you’ll be praying to these stains when you taste you’re menu tonight” Lucas smirks
You chuckle shaking your head, before Lucas pulls you into a hug
“4 years and you still smell the same”
“You know I'm a women of routine, like the same bottle of perfume and my eggs-”
“Over easy, yeah yeah.”
“You know me so well!”
“No I just can’t get the smell of sunflowers from out my nose even years later”
“I paid a pretty penny for it, it should be fucking ever lasting”
Lucas shakes his head in a smile, and flashes of stomach pained laughter in pebbled alleyways and chef’s kitchens lights up your mind.
“What are you doing over here Luca?”
“A friend who works in restaurant business asked me to help get one of his locations up and runnin’ in Chicago” Luca replies
You follow him through drywall and scaffolding poles, catching the beginnings of the seating area as you observe the paint swatches on walls . The menu does always comes first.
“And this is you up and running? Conducting mini-master classes for old friends” You joke
“Mhm, don’t think we can classify ourselves as old friends just yet. It was just yesterday the last I saw you.” Luca replies in ponder
“Right, that must be all the gas fumes from looming over sauce pans for eons going to your brain. You do know nobody forced you to make that 36 hour long creme brulee right?” You tease
Lucas fights a giggle as he remembers the dish he had slaved over two nights, “And that sauce earned me a damn near Michelin Star.”
“Yeah, you probably should've been awarded a Nobel Prize for that” You admit, leaning against the stainless steel table counter of the central kitchen.
“Heard you started working with Carmen, he's good isn't he?”
The brick that had begun to dislodge from your throat slips back in, gulping down an uneasy breath as you give him a tight smile.
“It’s wonderful, he's really something” You murmur, thanking the gods that Lucas was too busy rummaging around the fridge to notice your features melting into malice.
“I wanted to keep this a secret, but who am I kidding. Come, I wanna show you something”
Lucas comes over, rolling your eyes as he makes you take off your coat. Hes eyes skim down your figure fast enough for you not to notice, but you feel him linger gently grasping the cotton of you fleece before hooking it onto a door handle.
To your surprise he pulls out a crisp chef apron, nodding with wide eyes as you stare at him baffled.
“Do you think my text was a joke? C’mon I know you, you would've been sitting there working yourself up not being able to get your hands dirty”
You chuckle sheepishly as you agree, cooking was your life. Even if you had gotten out of a 24 hour day you’d still sore your bones over a good meal. Especially with Luca.
You walk over to him, noting the papers scattered on the table counter and a laptop opened, the light streaming in. It’s opened to a leasing site, a run down appliance store who’s store wide sale had begun peeling off the windows.
“What's this?” You murmur, confusion in your voice as your eyes jump over the listing description quickly
“This is a home furniture store”
"Yes I gathered that from the block letters Luca, what does it mean?” You look over Luca whos grinning widely at you
“You know this used to be an old mill factory? The ones they'd make 7 year old work 20 hour shifts on?” Luca continues
“Have you turned into an anthropologist? Is this what this is? You takin’ a career change this late in the game old man?” You tease.
Luca doesn't laugh, he doesn't even roll his eyes, he just continues grinning ear to ear. You’re suddenly afraid he’s body has been tossed in a dumpster in Frederiksberg and this is his body double.
“It was practically a bakery, sweets. Who better than me to bring it back to its roots?” Luca replies finally as you were considering the best option to escape through the fire exit
You’re stumped before it dawns on you, Luca is gonna open his own bakery? Restaurant? You weren't clear as to what it was going to be exactly but you knew by the look of excitement on his face that it was his.
“You and goddamn rundown buildings” You shake your head, as Luca looks at you with a stupid smile, you can't help but let out a laugh.
“Tis only right I tell the person who saw me sweating in that furnace heated bakery in Denmark daring. It’s fate, and you know it” Luca replies
You chuckle, before bursting in excited laughter, oh you were so happy. You were, it had been his dream, to bring back some of heart that had been left in that flour room when he had come back to the States
You grab his hands, holding them tightly, reaching for his face and jaw and bringing him to your chest with adoration.
“Oh Luca, really? You did it?” You grin and he gazes down at you in sheepish resignation.
“Already put down the payment. Drained half my bank account so I’m going to have to DIY the architecture, and just engineer structure of the place but I dont care.” He chuckles
“Who cares about structural support when they taste that 36 hour creme bulee huh?” You chime, teasing.
You let go of his face but he grabs your wrist tightly,
“I want you to join me.”
You heart stills for a second, and you don't know if its the rush of nostalgia or the anger over Carmen that fights over your tongue to say
“Yes”
“I know you've got a good thing going with Carmen, and it won't interfere with that-”
Luca stammers before stopping abruptly, raising his eyebrows in confusion at your reply. He cocks his head to the side
“It’s fine, I can leave the Beef and help open it up with you”
“Woah woah wait a second, I didn't say leave Carmen-”
“That DIY job isn't going to be a one man job, besides I’m not that valuable there really, just help around here and there. Carmen could do without me to be honest, one less person to pay ya know? It's fine really” It your turn to ramble incessantly, slipping the resentment against Carmen and Calire through your jumbled reply
“Yeah? Is that why you're balling your fists?”
You look to Luca, whose eyes zero in on your shaking hands. You put them behind you quickly, self conscious as you bite your lip.
“You and I both know when you’re runnin’ from something. You really think you can hide things from me of all people?
“You don't want me working for you Luca? I just said I’d leave what I'm doing to do this with you”
“And I want you too, but I also know it's been a dream to work with someone as talented as Carmen”
“Yeah real fucking talented”
Luca looks at you, squinting his eyes
“I’ve talked to him you know” He murmurs softly, eyes still strained on you
“What?” You scoff, shaking your head
“And the way he gushes about you tells me enough. He damn near sounded like he was going to jump through the phone and ring my neck after I had told him I knew you before. The way he says your name? Tell me you're not just an employee, and the menu I’m hearing all around the city? Lavender and hazelnut? Lime and pistachios? That's all you. Even if you don't know it, you've imprinted yourself into that place and every dish Chicago is raving about” Luca replies, and his voice is low and his eyes are wide as he looks at you can’t not ignore him.
“I know you don't give up easily, and I’m not trying to play mediator, but just- think on it okay? You're going to be a part of this, that is certain. But you're a part of a lot okay? Being the head sous chef is nothing to what they’d make us do back in New York and you know it.”
You're about to bite back a reply before Luca raises his eyebrows, as if he's already as an onslaught of resorts to everything you have to say. You resign yourself to the fact; Luca knows you damn near better than yourself.
“Okay, I’ll think on it. Having you suffer a little without me is a nice image anyways” You reply, rolling your eyes as you tighten your apron.
Luca chuckles as he shakes his head, motioning you to help start making your dinner.
The sounds of sizzling pans and braised meat left your stomach full and your heart heavy hours later. The heated argument you had with Luca seemed hours ago when you both had let the food bring you back into synchronization.
You both sat criss cross on the unfurnished dining room floor, a plastic tarp underneath you both as you gorged yourself on duck, potatoes and cheap wine. You regret ever hesitating meeting with Luca, and you suppose you should thank Carmen for that.
Luca knows it's weighing heavy on your mind as he eyes you across the kitchen, wrapping up some leftovers for you. You shake your head as you gaze at him, giving him a reassuring smile that you know he doesn't believe.
“If it all goes wrong you know you can come to me, anytime anywhere” Luca whispers into your ear as you fall into a tight embrace.
“Getting pretty tired of running my whole life Luca, god I just want to rest.”
“Then let yourself”
The uber comes and you kiss Luca goodbye as he bundles you into the backseat, the shower earlier has now filtered into a slight drizzle and you watch the slow rain drops glide down the window languidly.
You didn’t want Carmen to be home when you arrived, but the thought of him being out with her this late had you gritting your teeth. You didn't know what you wanted.
Coming in HOT with some ANGST and FLUFF, having SUCH an intense emotional fight with Carmen one night. Maybe you’re both arguing about the opening of The Bear or finances or even just with communication in your relationship, Carmen just snaps about how you weren’t always this hostile. Just losing it on him and in tears crying out “YOU LEFT!! YOU LEFT ME CARMEN!! I understand what happened with you and your brother, but you just fucking left and didn’t even say goodbye!! You know how AWFUL that made me feel?! Like all of a sudden after everything we’d been through! It was like suddenly I was another face you just cut out and forgot about. It took me MONTHS to stop even just thinking about you. And then when you came back? It was as if nothing happened, but I was SO happy you were back….and now you always act like I’m some inconvenience that’s always in the way!!!! So what do you WANT Carmen?! Do you want me to stay or is this another New York situation?”. You can see Carmen’s heart shattering in his face as he just crumbles at the end begging for forgiveness 🥲. It ends maybe with the both of you holding each other in the kitchen “I’m so sorry” “No no….it’s okay….I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that…”
All for you
part two
this request was so good! your brain anon..😍 i hope i did it justice, this is part one of two because i always seem to be extending things that should be a one shot! i'm thinking part two should be from carm's pov? what do you guys think??
warnings: shouting, self deprecation, angst to the tenth power, no happy endings, carmen is so so so bad at communicating, unresolved tension/anger, new york carmy!
Loving Carmen was a lot of things.
It was the smoulder of colours brushed onto a canvas, it was the crash of waves in the middle of the pacific, fighting and thrashing against each other until it took you under and below. It was the spoonful of honey that eased the bitterness, it was beyond your control. A love so smouldering and bright that you didn't quite know if your heart could fit it all.
But it was also difficult, like dragging a 50 pound steel anchor every way you went. You were forever grateful to have Carmen in your life, again at least, but it wasn’t exactly like the things that he had struggled with before he wasn't struggling with even more now.
You were patient, you tried to be at least. When he wouldn’t pick up your calls for hours, when he was so caught up with work he forgot to eat, when he was so caught up with work all the last of his energy was spent on you and not himself.
You loved Carmen too hard to let him destroy himself for his work, even if he hated you for it, you couldn't watch him crumble and break from the stress of the restaurant and the overwhelming pressure he put on himself.
Especially when you saw him begin to unravel before you, melting hot wax crackling and setting form. He had begun to throw back bottles of pepto like it was water, crunching on tums like popcorn any chance he got, and it wasn't like the restaurant was doing bad, in fact it was doing amazing. Yet, it was that fact alone that made Carmen get worse, made him slip into the sinking black hole that told him one moment away from the shop, one glance off of his work and it would crumble into ash.
You had seen this in New York, where he would call you during the depths of the night, the sound of his stuttered sobs breaking any resolve you had left. You had raced to throw on a jacket and bring a pot of soup to his place even when he protested. You fed him whilst he shook against you, you whispered stories until he fell asleep, you kissed his curls.
You wondered if he knew.
You find yourself doing the same thing now, like an endless dance you both are bound to, every rational part of you wants to hate it but you can't deny the way your heart shimmers in want. Your mind moves with the familiarity of it, chasing after him like a game of cat and mouse.
Only this time you live with Carmen and not in a dingy shoebox in New York holding back every ounce of love you wanted to pour into him.
Carmen’s mind was forever connected to food, it was something so automatic it fell unconscious under his skin. You found amusement in the way he’d stand in the middle of your apartment living room in quick critic over the late night cooking shows that you would turn on whilst waiting for him to come home, or the coffee around the corner he swears isn’t actual beans.
But your soup, and anything else you made was something he had always reserved with a certain adoration. He’d whisper into the anonymity of your neck under the covers, recounting how your food was akin to a warm hug, coming home to the smell of cookies and a house of laughter and light he wished he had growing up.
You hoped he had actually eaten something today, but it was that belief that evaded your mind as quickly as it came when you reminded yourself who Carmen was. It was push and pull, and you would be damned if he didn't finish your food and then some.
Your job allowed you to work from home, and you don’t know if it was your laziness or intelligence that enabled you to make it so that you only had to work a couple hours in the day. It was sometimes strange to Carmen, how you could be able to find love and creation in something without putting everything into it.
Carmen was always watching you, he found peace in it, the moves and motions of you all over the apartment, the scent of your body wash, you toothbrush next to his, you were a movie right in front of him and he would watch you for eternity if he could.
You turn into the back of the Bear, parking between the faded white lines before turning off the engine and staying in the car for a moment. You hated the cold, and your breath had already begun to blow out misty clouds every time you exhaled. Collecting the warm container of soup and a sandwich you quickly jog towards the restaurant, taking the back door when you notice Manny leaving.
“Hey Hun, how ya doing” Manny nods towards you with a warm smile
“Hey Manny, just coming to get Carmen to eat something other than tums”
“Chef is definitely wound tight, mix up on a new delivery of some kind of fruit? Forgot the name.. It's spiky and smells like when we moved out those ovens and found those burnt onions and stock stuck to the floor” Manny replies with a wince as you both recall the devastating smell that hadn’t left your nostrils in weeks during the renovation.
“Uh, Durian?” You reply and Manny clicks his fingers at your reply.
“That's it. That mind of yours is really something. He hasn’t taken a break since the morning, but you always have a way with him” Manny raises his eyebrows and you shake your head with a laugh
You only remember that particular fruit because Carmen had been obsessing over a new menu item that included it as its main component. He had spent sleepless nights perfecting it, despite it being utterly magnificent the first try. You couldn’t shake him from his work, it could consume him for months if he let it, and you feared he was at the precipice of falling into that hole once again.
You walk through the back hallway leading up to the main kitchen, passing by the tired hunches of the shoulder dressed down in crisp white shirts and aprons. The Bear had a late start today, Sydney suggested opening a little later for a full dinner menu rather than lunch as well and the turn out had shocked you all.
It also meant Carmen came home even later than he already did during those nights, you’ve had to damn near carry him to the bath to get him to not drop dead the second he came home. You didn’t mind however, you couldn't deny the faint thrum of your heart content as you washed Carmen’s hair whilst he lay against you half asleep.
You spot Sydney at her station, and you quickly walk over to see her prepping for dinner, the swoop of her knife cutting into red meat in a kind of curve you knew she had perfected over the years.
“Hey Syd, early start?” You say, once your side by side with her
“Oh don’t remind me, can you believe the L got backed up from all the ice last night? Added a whole 45 minutes to my commute” Sydney groans out, shaking her head as she turns to you. Grateful to have a reprieve from her repetitive cutting.
“Goddam Chicago, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve got a bottle of wine with your name on it in my fridge and it is dying to be opened and shared by two very, very tired women” You reply, smiling at the way Sydney raises her eyebrows gleefully at the thought.
“I am holding you to that, as soon as we get through today. God, this new dish Carmen has thought up is kicking my ass” Sydney replies, and your ears chirp at the mention of the man you’ve been looking for.
“Speaking of Carmen, have you seen him?”
“Yeah, I think he’s still in the office, been on call with one of our vendors cause of the mix up with the--”
“Durian, yeah. Thanks Syd” You reply, giving her a nod before making your way to the hallway leading into the office.
You hear Carmen before you see him, the sound of his loud voice seeping through the cracks of the door. His voice rises as he gets more and more agitated, and you don’t miss the sound of a cup being thrown against the wall as the phone call continues, not waiting a moment before firing back muffled words you can hardly make out except
“Unprofessional” “waste of my time” “fuckin’ dick”
So yeah, you thought it was definitely a good time to walk in and get your extremely agitated boyfriend to eat your soup.
Just as you walk through the door, you see Carmen slam the phone back onto the receiver, shouting out obscenities at the object as he throws his chair back onto the floor. Years working together has made you unfazed by his outbursts of anger, though you have been sly in trying to get him to go to therapy so that he doesn't get an aneurysm over the phone with the Wifi company or something hilariously trivial.
“Hey Carm” You say, whilst closing the door, and Carmen look up at you in surprise, his features sobering, as his eyes relax into a comforting gaze.
“Ah shit, sorry bout that, just some stubborn, pig headed vendors who don’t want to fix a problem they fucking caused” Carmen replies, his chest rising rapidly as he takes sharp inhales of oxygen.
He turns to face you and you take in the sunken look of his cheeks, the skin a little discoloured like he was sick, and his hair dishevelled and falling flat against his face like he's run his hand through it too many times.
“Jesus Carmen, have you gotten any sleep?” You reply, instantly as you make your way over to him, pressing a hand on his shoulder.
Carmen shudders against your touch, shaking his head as he leans back and away from you. You stumble as you look down at your hand now inches away from his shoulder in confusion. Carmen never turned you away from him, in fact during those unforgiving times of anxiety and anguish, when he felt the entire sky falling, you would be his anchor to bring him back.
The fact that he had visibly shuddered when you touched him made your heart ache, and it hurts even more when Carmen notices, the guilt spilling into him.
“Just been so busy” Carmen replies, his eyes darting everywhere but you, as you nod with a tight smile, backing away from him.
You reach for the soup you've left on the edge, placing it on the desk and you nod to it
“Have you eaten today?” You reply and Carmen stops watching you, blinking slowly as he tries to remember the last time he's actually consumed something, before coming up empty and shaking his head up at you with a groan.
“I thought so, you need to eat Carmen, how can you expect to function let alone run a restaurant if you aren't at your optimal level” You reason, leaning against the table, with your arms crossed against your chest.
“It’s fine, I was just gonna grab something small” Carmen waves you off
“Actually, I brought you food right now so I think it would be a perfect time-
“Is that why you came? To micromanage me like some toddler” Carmen suddenly replies, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you through half lidded eyes.
“I- what? I didn’t-”
“I can run my restaurant blindfolded with my arms tied behind my back, alright? I don’t need you to come and patronise me like you know every goddamn thing” Carmen spits out, and you can't help the way your blood runs hot, the rhythmic beat of anger pounding through you like a hammer.
How fucking dare he
“Excuse me? I came here for you Carmen, not some self-righteous moment to say I'm better than you. God damnit, is that what you think? I came here to make sure you didn't faint and fall into a pot of boiling hot water” You spit out, Carmen looks up at you, hes blues swimming in ire as he lets a humour-less laugh rumble through his chest.
You felt all the things you had kept a lid on begin to tumble out of your mouth, and soon you’re anger morphed into a building current. The flashes of everything that had gone wrong, the lack of communication, the coming home late, it all has begun to accumulate rapidly and you let it consume you in its entirety.
“Sure, of course,” Carmen sings. “I’m not your fucking child alright? You are my goddamn mother so stop treating me like you need to make sure I eat 3 times a day and have my nightly bath. I’m a grown man-”
“Then ACT LIKE IT!”
Carmen looks up at you in surprise, his brows knitting as his head swivels back from your outburst. You had never screamed at him, in fact, Carmen can’t remember a time where you had screamed at anyone like you did now as you stare him down deviantly. Eyes burning with a fiery anger that begged to be stoked. Carmen knows this, your hands shake in tight fists like your seconds away from swiping him, and he resorts back to his usual self destruction of turning back and running away.
“Yeah, yeah that's right, walk away, walk away like you always do. Carmen, soon enough you're going to have to face it you know? You’re gonna have to face your fucking issues before it destroys us both” You scream, and Carmen pauses, causing you to stumble. Carmen turns around to face you in the middle of the hallway, the rush of anger present on his cheeks, causing the veins to bulge out on his neck and he looms over you
“Issues, I have fucking issues? You’re screaming at me because of goddamn soup”
“It’s more than fucking SOUP!” The screech of your voice bounced across the thin walls of the restaurant hallway, your throat begins to burn as you begin to swallow down the emotion bubbling within you. You want to reach into him and rattle his neck, force him to see the destructive path he was taking, force him to do anything but turn away and shut you out.
A quiet trepidation falls over the entire kitchen as they watch you both fight, it was unheard of, an anomaly that seemed wrong, like someone had gotten a couple from the street and put your faces on it.
Watching you both fight was like watching a performance. The way you both leaned into each other menacingly, neither of you backing down, there was an indefinite energy that bubbled between you both, you were seconds away from shocking each other or making out.
“What is it then huh? Why are you acting like this? You expect me to read your goddamn mind? You’ve changed alright? Everyone can see it, I can't even recognise the person in front of me half the time” Carmen sneers, his neck turning a crimson red as he clenches his jaw painfully. He’s holding himself back, his body shakes with it, the tight clenches of his fist stopping him from putting a hole in the wall or smashing a chair.
“I’ve changed? Me?” You cut yourself off with a chuckle, Carmen shifted his gaze as his eyebrows knot in confusion, and when you catch a glimpse of his face you can’t help the booming sound from crawling up your throat, keening over as the sick sound of laughter rocks through your body.
The rest of the team now watches on in horror, you were laughing, why are you fucking laughing?
You try and gulp down the uncontrollable fit of laughter, you can practically feel your body shift down into the jagged memories from all those years ago. From a place and time you had shuffled into a no named cabinet and thrown into the deepest depths of the ocean.
You didn’t want to remember, you begged your mind to forget, but as your laughter slips into sharp inhales, you already can taste the wetness streaming down your cheeks, and slithering down the slope of your neck.
Your sob’s rack through you, winding you until you hunched over, reaching out onto the wall to steady yourself and trying to find footing as the ground caves beneath you.
Carmen recognises it in an instant, taking a tentative step forward, raising his arms before dropping them in a second, like he was approaching a volatile animal.
“Fuck, I’m sorry I-” Carmen starts, but you’ve already raised yourself from your hunched position, the tears dripping into the linoleum floors and splashing onto your combat boots.
You didn’t want to face that time in your life again, but Carmen has practically forced you too, and there's no way in hell you weren’t going to drag him down into that bordered off well. Fuck being the bigger person.
“No no, you spoke, this is my fucking turn now” You grunt out, the rippling grief leaving your body in a flash as you sneer over him.
Carmen gulps back a retort, his mind re-circuiting, trying to figure out your polar behaviour. Carmen knew better to interrupt you now, in fact the restaurants was a pin drop quiet, safe for the whooshing sound of the central air corn, and the sound of Carmen's stuttering inhales.
“YOU listen to me” You spit, pointing a finger, pressing it into Carmen's chest so hard he stumbles back
“You fucking left me Carmen. You! You- just, you dropped everything we had, everything we ever built in New York and you disappeared. And it was Mickey, and you needed to be there and I got that, I get that, but you- you just left me there.” You grunt, biting back the swell of emotion that erupted when you thought about those years ago.
“You became a ghost, and god,- you could have told me, after everything I thought we had- you could've told me! But then you didn't. And I was left to pick up the pieces, wondering if you had ever loved me, wondering if I should have given half of myself to you whilst you couldn't even call me back” You stutter out, shocking back the onslaught of tears as you swallow around the lump in your throat.
Carmen’s face pales as he registers those years ago in New York, the immediate look of guilt and anguish twisting his features as he leans onto the wall for support.
Even after all these years, all this time, you still felt it like it was yesterday. All your work had become undone, the thin veil of healing had been stripped back to bare bones in an instant, and you hate it, you hate it so much. Why couldn’t you have packed up and moved on? Why did you have to fold back into yourself at those memories? You don't know what you're seeking now, vengeance, restitution, it all becomes blurred in the heat of it, and god have you wanted to strip your skin and wake up restored since that night.
“You ruined me for a year Carmen. I was a shell of myself because of you. And then you called me that afternoon and you know what? I wanted to throw my phone into the fucking Hudson. I wanted to rip my hair out and scream and hurt you like you hurt me because the truth was I already forgiven you before you even apologised. And you never did. And I still wanted to come back to Chicago for you.”
“Honey-” Carmen's strained voice shudders at your words, and you can make out the red of his eyelids, the tears collecting at his lids.
You hold up a hand, stopping Carmen from speaking, tears begin to form at your waterline, threatening to break, your vision blurs, the features of Carmen’s tormented face becoming wobbly and undefined.
You were so sick of crying, you were so sick of it.
“And I won’t ever make you keep paying for a mistake for the rest of your life, I let go of that anger because you needed my help and in some way, I fell in love with you all over again, I was able to make peace with it.”
“But you don't think I know you Carmen? When you overwork yourself to death you can barely eat? When you get bad again at calling me? When you were good, you were the best person in my entire world, but when you're like this?” You shake your head into the empty space between you, hands waving in front of you.
Carmen looks torn apart, his hair falling flat against his forehead, his hands in tight fists as he shakes his head against your words. Begging, on his knees, begging for you to stop, to stop saying those things that came from your mouth that were not true. His body shakes with it, the gushing feeling of guilt, it washes over him in waves.
His mind is going a mile a minute, every thought of work, of that mismatched order he had to deal with, of the vendor who refused to deliver, it all went out the window the second your face contorted in that heart aching way. He can't lose you, every fiber in his being yearned for you, he lived for you. And here he was losing you, like a brush of paint across a canvas.
You were slipping from him every second you stood there with tears dripping down your cheeks like a stream.
“You’re the one that's changed. You're the one who's always changing. Don’t throw it back at me just because you can’t see it” You mutter with a shake of your head. Your voice carries a finality with it, and you jerk from Carmen when he takes a step towards you. You can't breathe in here, and you pass by the concerned gases of the rest of the Bear, shaking your head and moving away from Sydney, before dipping back into the busy streets of Chicago. You bite your tongue the entire way until the taste of copper fills your mouth.
Folding yourself into the huddled waves of mundanity, leaving your soup and the last bit of your aching heart on the bench of Carmen's office.
thoughts of bucky and sarah have been rattling in my brain for too long. no i cant start a new series, yes i will consume every single crumb they give us of them. (i mean just look at our man, he needs her).
bucky barnes x sarah wilson
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Louisiana is sinking. That’s what Sarah thinks, as she drives back from St Orleans taking the road that winds up and twists into her home of Delacroix. Not the decadent blues that fall heavy on her tongue as she whispers along with the lyrical soundscape of her beloved home. Not the way the unrelenting sun beats heavy on her shoulders. And definitely not the head strong mass of muscle who’s surprisingly very good at playing hide and seek sleeping on her old beaten couch.
Yes, she is thinking about the future of Louisiana’s sinkage. That’s what she convinces herself, she has done the part of the dutiful civilian, using the god awful cartoon straws that turn to mush by the second sip, set up recycling boxes near the waste bin. Participated in local cleanups, followed the hashtags and discourse, the whole lot. So she is determined to put her mind to the near cataclysmic disaster of the climate warming.
But the drum of her fingers against her steering wheel lulls her back to dark curls and the open mouthed laughter of James.
