#second note: I'D DIE FOR CARMEN

[bi-bard]

I Dial Drunk, I'll Die a Drunk, I'd Die for You - Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto Imagine [The Bear]

Title: I Dial Drunk, I'll Die a Drunk, I'd Die for You

Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto X Reader

Based On: Dial Drunk

Word Count: 1,907 words

Warning(s): drunk character, a lot of cussing, argument, mention of unhealthy coping/bad mental health

Summary: A night of drunken grief lands Carmy in more trouble than he thought it would. He calls the one person that he remembers being able to rely on. His night of calls brings up old memories of the person that seems to be hellbent on ignoring him.

Author's Note: I knew that this song was going to be for Carmy since I first heard a clip of it on TIkTok.

**Flashbacks are indicated by "--" and italics**

NOAH KAHAN - STICK SEASON [WE'LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER] WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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The first missed call was understandable.

Carmy would've missed it too if someone decided to randomly call him at damn near three in the morning. He couldn't fault (Y/n) for that one.

But the second missed call made him close his eyes and shut his eyes.

He never wanted to be here.

He never planned to spend his night in a fucking cell. He never planned to be leaning his head on a payphone, trying to get in touch with the one person that probably never wanted to hear his voice again.

He had originally planned to spend the whole night alone. He was going to drink until he could pass out on his sad couch in his sad apartment and have a few hours where he didn't have to think about the world around him. A night without the pressure and guilt and anger seemed comforting.

He didn't truly remember why he left his apartment.

Truly, his only vivid memory was the cop pulling up next to him on the bridge as he drunkenly stumbled around. He didn't know what had led the cops to him, but he didn't truly feel like he had enough time to question it before he was getting placed in the back of the car.

Now, his head was starting to hurt, and he was getting more and more upset with the ringing on the line.

--

There weren't many people that Carmy tried to reconnect with.

That was usually because either they didn't have any desire to or because he didn't have any desire to find that out.

(Y/n) was an exception.

They had tried to keep in contact when he went to school. Carmy was the reason that such a plan didn't work. He didn't try like they did. It was some twisted consequence of his anger and self-worth issues and a million other problems that he didn't even acknowledge enough to try to solve.

When he came home, they were one of the first to find out.

Through all of the stress and chaos, they basically grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the restaurant for a while.

He ended up spending the morning with a cup of arguably shitty coffee and following (Y/n) around while they ran errands.

Somehow, he got dragged into a bookshop. He felt entirely out of place there. He spent most of his time looking at the covers and giving random feedback on how books looked.

"Thank you for coming out with me today," (Y/n) said after a while. "It really does mean a lot."

"Yeah, you're welcome," Carmy replied, admittedly zoned out before the fact. "Why did you want me to come with you?"

(Y/n) shrugged. "You just seemed so... overwhelmed. I thought that something like this would be a nice enough escape from whatever the fuck is going on in that restaurant."

"Oh," he nodded. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," they chuckled.

Something in Carmy's mind seemed to click at that point. It was as if his body was moving without his conscious thought catching up.

(Y/n) was about to round the corner of one of the aisles before he caught their hand. They went to question him but didn't get the chance to do so before he leaned in and pressed his lips to theirs.

There were a few moments where (Y/n) froze where they were, but that soon wore off. Their arms wrapped around Carmy's neck as they kissed him back.

They started to grin into the kiss after a few moments.

And Carmy couldn't help but mimic them.

--

"Alright, come on."

Carmy snapped out of his thoughts when the cop spoke up.

"You clearly aren't gonna get an answer," the cop explained. "I can't let you spend all night on the phone."

"Fuck that," Carmy said simply before holding out his hand for another coin. "They'll answer. I know it."

The cop glanced around at the room around him. He knew that he shouldn't even entertain this idea. But, against his better judgment, he held out some more change for Carmy to use.

Carmy nodded as a silent thank you before turning back to the phone, silently begging for this to be the time that (Y/n) answered.

--

He didn't mean to slam the door.

In all of his anger and stress and poor coping abilities, Carmy wasn't thinking straight enough to stop himself.

He should have thought about it more. He got home at almost one in the morning. He knew that (Y/n) had been waiting for him. He knew that they probably had fallen asleep after work. But some part of him refused to acknowledge any of that.

"What the fuck," (Y/n) grumbled as they sat up from where they had fallen asleep on Carmy's couch.

Guilt found a place in Carmy's chest as he looked at their tired face.

(Y/n) rubbed the sleep out of their eyes before looking back at him. Their face went from tired to concerned in a matter of seconds. They had always been better at understanding his emotions than anyone else... even himself.

They made it over to him in a matter of seconds. Their hand found the side of his face. The feeling of their skin on his made his eyes fall shut for a moment as he took a deep breath.

"What happened," (Y/n) asked.

"Nothing," he replied. "I'm just... I'm really fucking tired."

He had a love-hate relationship with the knowing look that crossed (Y/n)'s face. It was great that he didn't need to perfectly explain his every emotion for (Y/n) to understand him, but it was awful to know that he had little chance of ever hiding how he truly felt from them.

With almost no words spoken, (Y/n) dragged Carmy to bed, letting him slip his shoes off and lay on top of the covers. They laid down next to him. He laid on his stomach and they laid on their side. Their hand ran through his sweaty hair, leaning over to press a kiss to his temple.

His eyes slowly closed as another kiss was pressed to his cheek.

He fell asleep that night feeling comforted for the first time in years... and he never knew how much he truly craved that.

--

"I don't know who the fuck this is, but you need to stop fucking calling me."

Carmy jumped when he finally heard a voice on the other end.

"Leave me alone-"

"(Y/n), wait!" he said quickly. "Please, don't hang up the phone."

There was a short pause. "Carmy?"

"Yeah," he let out a quiet huff.

"What do you want," they asked.

"I... I got myself in a bit of trouble," he explained. "I just... I need your help."

There was another pause between them. It was longer this time. Carmy wondered if he had been just a little less focused on himself, would he have heard the building anger from (Y/n)'s end of the call?

"You have some fucking nerve, Berzatto," (Y/n) snapped. The words came out like venom, stinging as they hit Carmy's ear. "I tried to help you! I always fucking have! No fucking more! Go fuck yourself, you selfish fucking prick!"

Carmy flinched a bit when the call suddenly dropped.

His jaw clenched.

"Come on-"

"Let me try again," he cut off the cop before the sentence could be finished. "Just... Just one more call."

He watched a pitiful look cross the cop's face. That was when he realized that tears had filled his eyes. The cop didn't know him or (Y/n) or why they were so quick to hang up the phone.

Another coin was placed in Carmy's palm.

Maybe it was for the best that the cop didn't know the truth.

--

He started the yelling.

(Y/n) didn't deserve it.

They had just been pushing so much. Pushing to know his thoughts and feelings. They wanted to help him so much.

He knew that. He knew that every intention was good.

But that didn't change the boiling anger sitting in his chest. He wanted to ignore and avoid everything, and he couldn't do that with (Y/n) constantly there. With them constantly asking the right questions and perfectly explaining what he needed to hear.

His foundation may have been unsteady and broken, but it was his. He didn't want to be pushed to change it. No matter how good that may have been for him.

"Shut up!" he snapped, cutting off (Y/n)'s words completely. "Stop trying to fucking fix things for two minutes!"

"I... I wasn't trying to-"

"Don't act like you don't know what the fuck you're doing," he shouted. He didn't stop to notice how (Y/n)'s eyes changed into this mix of sadness and fear. "You always fucking do this! You try to fucking fix me and the situation and everything! Do you have any idea how irritating that shit is?"

They didn't respond to him. They just sat there with their mouth opening and closing a bit as they contemplated if they should speak or not... and what they would say if they did.

"Guess what? If you gave a shit about me, then you would be able to be with me without trying to fucking- I don't know- mold me into... whatever the fuck you want from me!"

The silence that followed felt a million times louder than Carmy's yelling. It was tense. It felt heavy and suffocating. If he hadn't been such a stubborn asshole, then maybe Carmy would have apologized to bring an end to the feeling.

And then, (Y/n) finally moved.

They shoved past him and stormed out of the room. They only stopped at the door because they had to grab their shoes and jacket.

"Running away instead of talking to me now, huh?"

"Go fuck yourself," (Y/n)'s response was quiet, spoken through gritted teeth and embarrassing tears. "I never wanted to mold you into anything. I just... I wanted you to stop hurting."

"Not your job-"

"Yeah, you're fucking right, it's not," they turned back to him. "But would you have ever fucking done anything about it on your own?"

His jaw clenched and he didn't respond.

"And I let you treat me like shit in the name of you getting better... but you never fucking worked to do anything about the shit you were dealing with!"

He almost jumped at the yelling.

Their voice went back to that quiet, angry tone, "Never fucking contact me. Forget that I fucking exist if that's what it takes for you to leave me the fuck alone. I don't care. I am done."

He didn't move to stop them as they pulled the door open.

"Go fuck yourself, Berzatto."

The last thing that Carmy heard that night was the sound of the door slamming shut.

--

Carmy's muttered a few curses to himself before slamming the phone back on the hook.

"Let's go," the cop instructed. "Before you get embarrassed anymore."

Carmy sighed and ran his hands over his face before following the cop. Neither one of them spoke until it was time for the cop to finally leave Carmy to sit in the cell in his own misery.

"For what it's worth," the cop said, "I think it was shitty that you were treated like that."

Carmy just nodded.

He didn't have the heart to respond... to tell the cop the truth...

that Carmy deserved to have his calls ignored.

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