#dad!carmen berzatto x mom!reader

[thebearer]

making the bed |carmen berzatto x reader| part one

prompt: carmen's stressed. food critics, a newborn baby, balancing work life and married life and now dad life; he's bound to break, everyone knows it. but no one ever thought he'd lash out on you.

or, part one of the devastation fic. based off this ask from the other day. two more parts to come.

contains: mega angst. mega angst, with no resolution in this part. hurt, no comfort (in this chapter, will be later in part 3). mean!carmen, very mean. mom!reader x dad!carmen with newborn teddy. fighting, language, carmen says mean stuff he doesn't mean. past mentions of trauma, family trauma, mikey mentioned. very angsty and a little heavy, please read at your own discretion. word count- 3.5k+.

"Are you ok?"

Carmen now understood why that phrase used to send Donna into such a blind rage, lips pursing and jaw clenching more and more every time he heard it. First at work, then with you, it felt never ending.

It was beginning to feel like critic season with how many were coming in, snooty and demanding to be impressed. It couldn't have come at a worst time, right in the middle of busy season with the start of the holidays. Days at The Bear were filled with frantic panic, running around, making sure everything was perfect, accounted for, and Carmen always had the sinking feeling it wasn't- that he'd forgotten something, messed something up. 

It wasn't rare for him to work himself up like this, a normal that you always warned him about, but he'd always had a solitude. As long as he'd known you, he'd had a place to go, to unwind, to let himself rest and reset with you. And he still did, it was just shared now with a newborn.

Dorothea Michelle. Teddy, for short. The light of his life, yours too. Nearly two months old with a set of lungs that sounded much louder, much more developed than that. Nights were long, sleepless, spent trying to lull Teddy back to sleep, awake even if he wasn't up with her. Carmen couldn't allow himself the selfishness to relax, to rewind, to "take it easy" like everyone told him to. At work, he was the boss; at home, he was a dad.

"Fuck, fuck," Carmen's sleepy stare was broken by a lick of bubbling heat, the lamb's roux popping with the high heat, splashing all over Carmen's chef whites.

"Jeff, c'mon," Tina clicked, shaking her head, moving the pan to lower heat. "What're you doin'?"

Carmen grit his teeth, snatching a rag off the stainless steel counter tops, scrubbing the burgundy stain, huffing when it only spread the stain.

"What happened?" Sydney turned, looking from the burnt sauce to Carmen's stained chef shirt. "Oh,"

"Do we have a spare coat?" Carmen huffed, throwing the rag down with a firm smack against the counter.

"I don't think so, Carm." Sydney shook her head. "You took the last ones home with you two days ago. The wine-"

"-I know, Chef, I know." Carmen snapped, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I-I can't fuckin' serve the critics lookin' like this. With shit all over me- fuck."

"Hey, easy, easy," Richie turned the corner, his hands held up. "What's goin' on?"

"Jeff got sauce over him. He doesn't have any clean clothes." Tina muttered, irritated that she had to fix his mess, more irritated that he wasn't taking care of himself. You have a baby, Jeff, you need to rest and take some time, she'd told him. Carmen only waved her off.

"Okay, okay, hey, that's no problem." Richie's voice raised, lifting over Carmen's. "You go home and change, get your spare, check on my beautiful goddaughter, and then come back with your A game. Yes?"

Carmen didn't even humor him with a snarky remark, yanking his coat off and stomping towards the office to grab his things. Richie and Tina looked at each other, shaking their head gently.

"Kids runnin' thin, T." Richie muttered with a sigh. "He's gonna break. It's gonna be bad."

"Yeah, he is. Gonna wear himself out before then." Tina shook her head. "Jeff needs a vacation." They both jumped at the slamming of the backdoor, Carmen's angry exit shaking the foundation.

"Needs to be fuckin' medicated. Fuckin' lunatic." Richie scoffed, rolling his eyes at Carmen's dramatics.

The drive home was filled with silence, Carmen's iron grip on the wheel, tearing through the traffic towards the house- his house, his home. 

Home, but it didn't provide the same comfort that it usually did. Carmen's shoulders still stayed tense, buzzing with rage, not dissipating when he thought of you, or of Teddy, knowing you'd both be there, excited to see him. 

You jumped at the sound of the car door slamming, peeking out the window to see Carmen's parked next to yours, furiously stomping up the front steps. You frowned, grabbing the baby monitor, walking towards the front door.

Carmen nearly hit you with how fiercely he flung the door open. "Woah," You reached for the door, stopping it before he could flick it shut. "Carm, don't slam it. Teddy's asleep. I just got her down." You frowned at him, shutting it slowly.

Carmen looked at you but didn't speak, looking through you with a rage that had your spine tingling before he finally broke his gaze, stomping towards the laundry room. "Carm? What’re you doing home? Don’t you have dinner soon?" You hesitated slightly, lingering in the doorway with an uncertainty you hadn’t felt with Carmen before. 

Carmen didn’t answer, his jaw still ground tight while he rummaged through the clean clothes, carelessly unfolding and shifting the folded clothes.

"Carmen," You said more firmly, caching his gaze. He didn't speak still, just stared at you- through you. "Are you ok?" You lifted a brow, features softening in worry.

Carmen paused, eyes closing, shoulders tensing in agitation. Are you ok? His ears rang, a familiar rage that he hadn't felt in years bubbling up deep in his chest. Frustrated and blinding and rampant, heat rushing through his veins, pulling himself further and further from reality into someplace different- someplace darker in his mind. 

"What's wrong?" You pressed, he could barely hear it, ears ringing at your question. "Did something happen? Did the critic come-"

"-Where's my chef whites?" Carmen barked, cutting you off, his chest tightening more and more with every heavy heave of his chest. You flinched at his tone.

"Uh, I-I haven't seen the whites. I washed your white tee-"

“-You what? Y-You what?” Carmen spat, eye widening with a wild, raged glint in his eye. Your stomach flipped and fell with fear, stepping back instinctively. 

“I-I washed your tee, Carm, that’s all that you left in the laundry basket-” 

"-Are you fucking kidding me?" Carmen boomed, his head spinning, body buzzing with rage. Your breath hitched, frozen in fear at the anger in his tone, the roar of his voice bouncing off the walls, echoing through your ears in a painful drum. 

Carmen moved, snatching the dirty clothes basket, dumping it into the ground with a shake until the dirty chef coat fell on top. He gripped the basket, flinging it across the room with a hard throw. The final push to his bad mood that sent him right over the edge, crashing into a pit of blinding fury, aggravation, breaking him from the inside out.

"Fuck!" Carmen roared, his voice shaking the walls, your breath leaving your lungs in a trembling exhale of fear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! This is- This is- Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” 

You tensed in shock, gripping the baby monitor in fear, maybe surprise, as it started to buzz to life with Teddy's startled whimpers. Her small cries pulled you out of your frozen state, something deeper than fear replacing the ache in your stomach. 

"Carmen-" You gaped, voice wobbling with uncertainty, taking slow shuffled steps towards the stairs. “Carmen, calm-calm down. Ok? Calm down.” 

“Calm down? You want me to fuckin’ calm down?” Carmen sneered, an angry red flush blossoming in splotchy deep hues up his neck, towards his cheeks. “You don’t do shit, nothin’ that I fuckin’ ask for! Just sit around all fuckin’ day an-and I’m supposed to calm down?” 

“Carmen,” Your voice wobbled, throat tight with tears, hurt and fear strangling your words. “I-You didn’t ask me to wash them. I-I didn’t know. They weren’t in the hamper-” 

“-I shouldn’t have to ask you to wash them!” Carmen roared, eyes so wide you thought they might pop right out of his head, neck vein protruding on exemplifying his rage. “You know what I’m going through! You know how much fuckin’ stress I’m under! I go to that-that shit hole, an-and work my fuckin’ ass off so you don’t have to! Then I come home, and I-I can’t even get a second of peace!” 

“Stop,” You hiss, finally regaining your composure, his words fully sinking into you  now, feeling the full effect of them. “I-I just had a baby. I’m still on maternity leave taking care of a baby- our baby, and I’m tired too. But I’m not yelling at you-” 

“-Oh, right. Right.” Carmen laughs sarcastically, humorless as he runs his hand down his face. It felt mocking, left you feeling small and too vulnerable for your liking. “Because in between your napping an-and feeding, you couldn’t stick a fucking jacket in the wash, right? You’re so busy.”  

“What is wrong with you?” You snap, hoping he can’t hear the tears in your voice, the way your voice shakes with emotion. 

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?” Carmen scoffs, throwing his hands out. “I get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then I come home so I can go back and work my ass off some more, and-and you can’t do one simple fuckin’ thing? You can’t help me out? And then you wanna know what’s wrong with me? When you sit on your ass all fuckin’ day-” 

Teddy’s piercing wail pulls you out of your shocked trance, nose and throat burning with hurt filled tears you refuse to shed. Instead, you turn, climbing the stairs on shaky legs, the sound of Teddy’s cries growing louder and louder. Anchovy watches you from the top of the stairs, sensing the tension, your upset, sliding against your leg as if to comfort you. 

Carmen scoffs, hands buzzing and trembling with rage, the ringing in his ears growing louder and louder with each of your footsteps on the stairs and down the hall. He can barely hear Teddy’s sobs, hands threading through his hair, pulling at his scalp. He sees you walk towards the bedroom, quickly, hugging Teddy to your chest. 

“Oh, don’t go fuckin’ do it now!” Carmen roared, your ignoring him only infuriating him further. “It won’t be ready in time now. I’ll just look like a fuckin’ idiot for the critic tonight! Not that you care! Why would you, huh? I-I mean just our livelihood, just our fuckin’ income!” 

You swallowed back your tears, head tilting towards the ceiling, hands shaking with every shove of your things into the overnight bag. Just enough to get you through the night, the next day. A few essentials, Teddy’s spare onesies, a charger, your wallet- you stopped mid-shove of your items into the weekender bag, the sun’s rays catching in your wedding ring. Your heart fell, more and more, you weren’t sure how that was even possible. 

Carmen’s furious voice was still booming from downstairs, ringing and shaking in his furious fit. Richie and Sugar both warned you about Carmen’s tantrums, brought them up to embarrass him, tease him about it until he was red faced and hissing hushed threats at them. You never, never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be on the receiving end of one. 

You jumped, another slam of something Carmen had thrown, maybe hit in a fit of rage, causing Teddy to wail louder, Anchovy skittering nervously away. Tears leaked out of your eyes, twisting the ring off your finger, setting it on Carmen’s bedside table. Pulling the carrier out of the closet, Anchovy got in much easier than usual, which you were thankful for. 

Carmen was gripping the marble of the countertop when he heard you again, walking from the bottom of the stairs, quick steps towards the door to the garage, Teddy’s voice nearly hoarse from her crying. You kept your head high, tunnel-visioned towards your car, ignoring his heavy breathing and frantic pacing. 

“Wha-What are you doin’?” Carmen’s voice was softer now, still with a jagged edge that was cutting and harsh. The car door opened, the baby carrier hooked into the car seat. 

“Hey, wha- what are you- where’re you goin’? What’re you doin’?” Carmen’s heart dropped in a damning rush of hour, stumbling on heavy legs towards the garage. You ignored him, shushing Teddy gently, running a calming hand over her wet cheek, trying to coax her paci into her mouth. 

“Baby, no-no, no. Hey, no, I-I- What-” Carmen’s chest felt tight, mind numbing and racing, stuttering nervously. You reached for your bag, his hand reaching to grab the strap. “Whe-Where’re you-”

“-Don’t touch me.” You hissed, teeth bared, eyes shining with tears. Carmen flinched, pulling his hand back like he’d touched a hot stove. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.” You sneered, pinning him with a watery glare that had his stomach turning in sickening fear. 

“Baby, hey, w-wait-C’mon, d-don’t-You don’t, you don’t need to do this, ok? I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Carmen choked out the words, frantic and unsure, his hands shaking when they ghosted over you back just for a moment. Wanting to touch you, to hold you, to grab you and keep you from leaving, but too scared to. Instead, he grabbed the car door you flung open, holding it when you tried to yank it closed. 

“Let go.” You hissed, sniffling back wet, snotty tears of fury and hurt. 

“Please, don’t-do-don’t do this. Please, baby, I-I’m sorry.” Carmen begged, blue eyes deepening with the burning red hues of tears, bloodshot and lashes wet. “Don’t-Don’t do this-” 

“-I didn’t do this.” You sneered, leaving Carmen flinching at your words. “Don’t you dare try to say this was me. After how you just talked to me? The shit you said to me in there? You think I’m going to stay?” Your voice cracked with emotion, lips pressing together to keep a cry in. 

“No, no, no, no, no, baby, please. Please, ju-just come inside. Come inside, please? Please, don’t-” 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that. To say that kinda stuff to me. That hurt, Carmen. That was mean.” You glared at him, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes. “I don’t care if you’re stressed. I don’t care what’s going on- nothing, and I mean nothing, warrants you talking to me like that. Just because you fucked up, because you forgot to ask me to do it, because you’re stressed out- I don’t care what it is. You don’t talk to me like that, say those things when I’ve been home all day taking care of my ch- our child.” You nod back towards the sniffling baby, whimpering and crying half heartedly, her little eyelids drooping with sleep that was interrupted. 

Carmen felt sick, his knees tightening in fear, he was sure they might give out, that he might fall to the ground right there. Looking at the tiny baby, lip jutted and shaking in the mirror hooked on the back of the seat, then back at you, eyes red-rimmed and glaring at him with a hurt filled anger. 

“Don’t-” Carmen’s chest shook, a white-knuckled grip on the door. 

Your own hand curled around the door’s inner handle, yanking it away from him. “Move,” You hissed, pulling again. 

Carmen wasn’t sure why he let it go, why he let you shut it, locking the door in case he tried to open it again. Why he let you pull out of the driveway, why he didn’t stop you, why he didn’t run after you, only taking soft shuffles down the drive like a zombie as you drove away. Standing in the drive, Carmen swallowed down the spit that pooled in his mouth, stomach churning, sure he was going to be sick. 

He managed to trudge back to the garage, mind racing and far away, the ringing in his ears dulling but still deafening. It felt like he was in a dream- a nightmare, a hallucinating trance that felt like a sick, sick dream- Carmen was hoping it was. That he’d wake up and find you next to him asleep. That he could hug you, pull you into him, nose buried in your neck, still warm from your slumber. 

As the sun began to sink low into the sky, minutes turning into hours that Carmen sat motionless in the garage, staring in a trancelike state, he realized that this wasn’t a dream or a nightmare. No this was his reality, a horrific reality that he’d made into his own. Carmen sat, eyes trained on the concrete of the garage, voice racing and blending in his mind- his words, yours, Teddy’s cries, Natalie and Richie’s, flashbacks of his mother screaming fits. 

He didn’t move, frozen in chilling, eerie fear. What ifs and terrifying possible scenarios, consequences to his own actions that left him feeling sick, hands trembling. A spiraling of fears that only drug him deeper and deeper with every haunting replay of his outburst. Even the flashing of headlights turning into the driveway, filling the garage with light, didn’t pull him from his trance. 

“The fuck is he- Cousin!” Richie roared, laying on the horn. Carmen didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge that he heard it, only stared. Richie frowned, turning the car off, throwing the door open. 

“Cousin? Carm? What-What are you doin’? Dinner service started an hour ago. Syd is freakin’ the fuck out.” Richie threw his hands up, walking towards the man who still didn’t move. Richie’s heart skipped, flashbacks of Mikey flooding into his vision, parallels of the two brothers blurring before him. 

“Yo, Carm, you-you good?” Richie stepped into the garage, his spine tingling with icy fear. It was quiet, an eerie, unsettling quiet. “Cousin, hey, what-what’s wrong?” 

Carmen's chest rose and fell, tighter and tighter. He was suffocating, head spinning and mind racing so fast he felt light headed. He could barely hear Richie’s voice over the noise in his head, Richie’s hand shaking his shoulder finally breaking his trance enough to meet his eyes, rounded in fear filled question. 

“Carmen, what’s wrong? Is it- Don’t fuckin’ tell me it’s the baby. What the fuck is goin’ on-” 

“-She left.” Carmen’s voice shook, raspy and scared. His tongue still felt too thick, head still spinning. He wasn’t even sure he said it, Richie’s widening eyes the only thing confirming that he had said it. 

“What? Who-Who left? Who?” Richie looked around, like the clues might be there, sure that Carmen wasn’t talking about you. No, he wouldn’t- he couldn’t. Not you. 

Carmen’s breath hitched, a strangling of a sob caught in his throat, running his hand over his face. Richie didn’t miss the way it trembled, shaking even as it rested over his eyes. Your car was gone, the house too quiet, no baby Teddy crying, nothing but silence was left. 

Richie’s heartbeat crawled into a rapid, scared pace. “Why? Wh-Why would she-” Richie looked at Carmen, eyes wide but still, reading his expression. “No. No, Cousin, no. What-What did you do? Carmen,” Richie grabbed both his shoulders, shaking him lightly until he met his gaze. “What did you do?” 

Carmen’s face began to crack, behind his eyes, Richie could see flashbacks of something- something he didn’t know what, but whatever it was, it was painful. That was evident by the fear that glossed over Carmen’s eyes, realization and horror. Carmen’s shoulders shook, frame rocking with a sob he tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Deep cries, guttural sobs breaking out of his frame, heels of his hands pressed to his eyes, fingers curled and clenched around his greasy curls in agony. 

The damning realization flooded over him, that you’d left. 

You’d left, you’d taken Teddy, taken Anchovy- you’d left because he’d driven you away. His angry outburst, petulant, mean, hurtful- he’d been so cruel to you. You. His wife, the love of his life, mother of his child, the one person who loved him endlessly without stipulations or boundaries, the one person who truly understood him. 

And he’d driven you away. 

He wished he could blame his mom, his dad, his family for fucking him up so severely, maybe Mikey, even, for leaving him the shit show that was the restaurant, making his anxieties worse and fuse shorter. But sitting in the empty garage, Richie standing above him in silent shock, his sobs and angry sniffles echoing off the cement floor, Carmen knew he had no one to blame but himself. 

He’d fucked up. Really fucked up. Fucked up in a way that made all the other times look obsolete. 

Carmen had fucked up, and for once, he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t avoid it, ignore it, deflect it like other times. Half hearted apologies and promises of change wouldn’t work, you weren’t here for him to even try to give them to you, and he didn’t know where you went. 

Carmen wasn’t sure where you went, how to fix this, why he’d done what he did, and a million other things that raced through his mind. What he did know, sitting in the too quiet garage, chest stuttering with heaving cries, was that he’d do anything. 

Anything, to get you back home. To make it right. To fix this and make it up to you. 

He wasn’t sure how, but he’d give up everything. Anything. His restaurant, his dreams, his hopes, his life, at this point, to make it up to you. 

[gallaghersgal]

anon from that letters to santa ask…you might be my favorite person on this app. thank you i love your work 🫶🫶

im so sorry for letting this rot, i've been quite busy!! no warnings.

"you got y'crayons?" carmen asks softly, laying out some construction paper on the kitchen island.

his little girl grins, showing off the newly acquired gap in her front teeth. "mmhm!" she holds the special box of crayons, the ones with the glitter she just had to have, despite having the largest assortment available at home. her little hands put the crayons up on the counter, then reach up to her father.

carmen leans down, scooping her up with a kiss to her head, then settles her on the stool. "alright kiddo, what d'ya wanna say to santa?"

she's already eagerly opening her crayons, choosing a purple one. she begins scribbling two circles at the bottom of the page, brow furrowed in concentration. "bike!! i wanna bike."

carmen looks up at you, a silent question on his face. is she old enough? you nod in response, a small smile on your lips. your baby girl was growing up.

your older son tilts his head beside you, helping you bake a batch of christmas cookies for the neighbors. "momma? can i write to santa instead?" he asks.

you smile, licking your thumb and using it to brush some flour off his cheek. "of course buddy. maybe you can help your little sister too?"

your daughter pouts, "i want daddy to do it! he knows how to write the loopy letters."

carmen laughs, knowing his cursive is atrocious to most, but his little girl always insists he break it out for cards, valentines, and of course letters to santa.

end.

[answer2jeff]

i was just thinking about dad!carmy missing his wifey when she's on a girls trip for the first time since their daughters birth and anxiously waiting for her to call him...

valeria has just been put to sleep after a seemingly endless hour and a half of rocking, soothing, and shushing.

"relax baby, mommy's gonna be home before you know it," carmy says, kissing the top of valeria's head and wincing a bit when her little fist tightens around his thick index finger. "yes i know," he sighs as she lets out one last wail of 'mama' followed by incoherent babbles before her body begins to relax at the sound of her daddy's soothing hums. no one is exactly sure where the song came from. maybe it's a pre-existing song further expanded on with different notes. maybe it's a whole new song with a lack of words he made just for his little girl.

carmen's back is sore and his hands mourn the weight of his precious girl in his arms, even if he's more than happy that she's finally at peace in her crib. the reality of his temporary loneliness really sets in the moment he closes the door to his daughters nursery.

he tries to distract himself from the sight of your nearly empty home. he's been wiping down the perfectly spotless kitchen counter with a microfiber towel for the last 3 and a half minutes while he scrolls aimlessly through your Instagram with his free hand, smiling to himself with every photo of you glistening in the summer heat. a margarita in one hand, a friends shoulder in the other. he's always thought you're the most beautiful when you're happy. with the sand in between your toes, salt water frizzing up your hair, the sun caressing the spots of your skin he wished he was the one to hold and kiss—seeing you free warms something in him.

meanwhile, you're falling onto your back and feeling the silky cold fabric of your hotel room bed against your skin. the bikini you've had on for hours is still a little damp from the ocean. it makes you shiver. you giggle at your 2 friends who pile into your shared bathroom, ready to puke and laugh and cry at their sickness from alcohol. you decide that you should kill some time before it's your turn to shower and boil yourself in delicious hot water. the balcony calls your name, and you quickly grab your phone from your beach bag, getting up to slide the glass door open to your left. the air feels warm and sweet against your sunkissed skin. your bare feet patter against the concrete foundation before you lean against the railing. you don't even bother to check anyone else's attempts at communication with you today. carmen is the only thing on your mind.

carmen nearly jumps at the sound of his cellphone vibrating against the bathroom sink. he quickly spits the minty toothpaste out of his mouth and accepts your call, raising it to his ear and wiping the corner of his lip.

"hey, baby," he breaths into the line, smiling almost uncontrollably as he drops his toothbrush back in the mug. the absence of yours with that pink little clip that covers the bristles is so disheartening. it's kinda silly, the way he frowns at the missing pieces of you all around your house.

"hi!" you chew on your bottom lip. it's like you're hearing his voice for the first time again. the petname sends butterflies swarming through your stomach. hell, even with a ring on your finger, it feels like you'd just met yesterday. the sound, smell, and feeling of him could never get old.

carmen yawns, leaning back on the bed and feeling his stomach drop when the little dip in the memory foam mattress has completely raised up to its original form. god, he misses the weight of your presence. but he tries to keep it cool.

"i was just thinkin' about you. well, i've been thinking about you this whole weekend," he laughs, running his hands through his sweatlogged curls. "glad you called."

"i know," you whine, "me too. missing you both, actually." your head feels fuzzy when carmen's little huff of agreement hits your ears. for a moment, his calm attitude surprises you. but maybe it shouldn't. he insisted you should go on this 2 day trip, swearing up and down he could handle being with valeria for a little over 48 hours.

"missing you so much more."

you didn't doubt his ability to keep his temper down and his self-discipline up when taking care of her, but you almost felt a little guilty.

"how are things?" you anxiously ask. carmen goes to answer dishonestly, but you quickly clarify. "and before you tell me, i know things have probably been kinda crazy. but oh my god, carmy, thank you for letting me do this. really, i mean—"

"what?" he cuts you off with a chuckle. "letting you? baby, you—you needed it. fuck, you earned it." carmen sits up in disbelief. it pains him knowing he can't fill in the much needed space of valeria's mother, but the guilt of ever daring to ask you to fly back home would kill him even faster. all he wanted was for you to be happy. even if that required sacrifice. especially since he knew deep down you did that for him every single day, even if you didn't notice it.

"mhm."

"i'm so glad you're having fun. things have been hectic, but i'm managing, okay? valeria has just been..." carmen pauses, gnawing at the inside of his cheek and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to find the right words.

you relax a bit, letting out a deep sigh of relief. but the anxiety still eats at you. the feeling of your bikini strings digging into your skin and the sand on your inner thighs forming what would soon become a rash if you didn't shower soon certainly wasn't helping with your situation.

"...tough recently. that's all. nothing for you to worry about."

"i know, i know. i just—i don't know. i feel bad. like, my mom instincts are screaming 'go home and take care of your daughter like a proper mother you sick, sick woman! you're not a teenager anymore! god, your poor husband is taking time off of his career too! not just you,' y'know?"

the attempt of trying to make some light out of your guilt just comes out awfully sad. carmen sighs, wishing he could just envelop you in his arms right then and there and drag you back into bed, kissing and squeezing and softly biting your neck and shoulders. but his needs can be dealt with when you get back. this, your sanity and your happiness, is far more important.

"try not to even think about it like that, sweet girl. just enjoy yourself. promise me you'll do that? not just for me, but for you?"

you nod, humming in agreement and sitting down on the cheap plastic chair on the balcony. you knew he was right. carmen spends next few minutes whispering over and over again how wonderful of a person, wife, and mother you are. he assures you that this is right and that it's good for you. oh, how he wishes he could take every worry that ails you and toss it away. or even carry it on his own shoulders if he absolutely had to.

"call me when you get to the airport on monday, okay?"

"okay, i will. i'll text you as soon as i take off and as soon as i land. promise."

"alright, thank you. g'night, baby. get some sleep so you can have even more fun tomorrow."

"yeah, yeah. okay. gotcha."

"i love you."

"i love you, carmy."

"so much," he breaths.

"so much," you reply.

taglist : @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber @sexyyounglatinoboy @febris-amatoria

[faerygrant]

so much wine - carmen berzatto x reader

summary: Carmen wants to prove to you that your relationship means a lot to him, what better way to do so than introducing you to his mother over dinner.

warnings: angst, swearing, minor injury, crazy Donna Berzatto appearance

Christmas time in Chicago was indeed the most wonderful time of year, in your opinion of-course. Snow was falling, trees brightly decorated in twinkling fairy lights and colourful ornaments and most of all, it was a time for reuniting with family and friends.

The beginning of your relationship with Carmen was…unorthodox to say the least. He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend in the normal way most men did, it was an awkward three months into your “arrangement” of sleeping together, him being partially moved into your brownstone and being introduced to all of his staff at the Bear when you finally posed the question. What are we?

He was stunned, you were stunned and you both stood there for a good 5 minutes in silence until he admitted he thought you were already dating, causing you to let out a loud sigh of relief. You’d told him that usually one asks the other to be their girlfriend to which he just shrugged and smiled, telling you he wanted you to be “his forever.” That satisfied you.

Now meeting his family wasn’t a big deal to you, you’d met Nat only a month into the relationship, as she was regularly at the restaurant, you’d heard about what happened to his brother but never pestered him much about it, as for the rest of his family, he never spoke much about them. He of-course called Richie cousin but you were mad very aware early on by Carmen, that they weren’t actually related in any way.

It hadn’t bothered you much until one night a few weeks ago, while out with your friends, Christmas plans were mentioned, one of them asking if you’d be spending it with yours or Carmy’s parents to which you admitted you hadn’t yet met them. Most of the girls shrugged it off but Mia, your highschool friend had taken this as a red flag.

“You’ve been with him for a year, he’s met your parents, you guys LIVE together and you haven’t met his mom?” Her eyes bulged in disbelief, leading you to down your cosmo worriedly.

“I’m sure it’s nothing and if it is, he probably has good reason. He could be protecting you, you never know” Your other friend Maisie assured, ever the voice of reason. You smiled at her words. Though you couldn’t pretend that you hadn’t began to internalise what Mia had said. You knew Carmy’s dad left when they were younger, but he never mentioned his mother, ever. Unless Sugar did and he’d always step out when they’d speak about her. The only photos you’d seen of her were when you’d visit Sugar and Pete’s and even then, they were old ones.

So yes, despite the holiday being the most wonderful time of the year, the past few days the issue of Carmen’s mom had been weighing on you heavily. You’d considered prying information out of Richie, but you knew he was too loyal to Carmen, Fak would rat you out to Richie, who once again, would alert Carmen of your questions. You knew the best thing to do was either ask your boyfriend or forget about it, unfortunately your brain wasn’t going to allow yourself to do either.

Luckily for you, Carmen had noticed how out of it you’d been acting the past days and had finally had enough. So one evening after work, the restaurant closing early due to heavy snow, Carmy had approached you, ready for answers.

“Are we good?” He asks, taking a seat beside you on the bed. His tattooed arms bulging as he crossed them, adorned in a navy sweater and grey sweats. His hair was a curly mess probably from the windy evening air and he smelt of cigarette smoke and cologne.

“Wha- why wouldn’t we be?” You place the book you were reading besides you on the table and turn to look at him, feigning innocence.

“I dunno, you’ve just been actin’ kinda’ off past couple a days” he pauses, brining your knuckles to his lips and slowly grazing them with kisses. “Thought maybe you were mad at me” his tone is questioning.

“Oh Carmy, it’s not that.” You feel horrible, leaning into him to peck at his face. “It’s just that the girls and I were discussing Christmas plans and the conversation slipped into parents and Mia pointed out the fact that you’ve never introduced me to your mom, even though you’ve met both of my parents.” Immediately you see the way he tenses up, his veins appearing and his body stiffens.

“That really what’s been botherin’ you?” He asks genuinely.

“Yeah.”

“I jus- my ma’s not all there.” He whispers quietly, you notice how difficult it is for him, so you take his big hand in yours, squeezing tightly.

“Carmen I understand, it’s just important for me. If we’re going to be married one day and start a family than I’d like to meet her. The last thing I’d do is judge her.” You assure him, hopping he’d somehow believe you.

“I dunno, we’ll see.” He whispers, failing to meet your gaze.

“Alright.”

-

It was two weeks later, with lots of talking, deep heart to hearts and support from Nat and Pete, Donna Berzatto was coming to dinner at your an Carmy’s place. Carmy was a nervous wreck, insisting on working on the food in the kitchen while you just relaxed and set the table.

He warned you about her and so did Nat, you thought you had an idea of what to expect, what was to come walking through that door in a few minutes but you’d underestimated Donna Berzatto, oh how you’d underestimated her.

Carmen had just placed the braised lamb dish on the table, while you popped open the bottle of red for the night when the sound of your doorbell continuously being rung alerted the both of you. That wasn’t the only sound however, shouts of “Carmen!” Sounded from the door, along with the banging of a flat palm. Ok so maybe you knew where the night was going to be headed.

Carmen sighed, rubbing your shoulder assuringly before making his way to the front door.

“My baby boy, oh you look tired and pale, why?” You heard her fussing, her voice echoing from the foyer.

“I’m fine Ma s’jus winter.” Carmen mumbles, when finally you see her walk into the dining room. Her blonde hair is curled, red lipstick, smudged eyeliner from what you can only assume was a cry session before she’d gotten here, a bottle of whiskey in hand and long bright red manicured nails.

“Mrs Berzatto, it’s nice to finally meet you.” You hold your hand out to shake hers and she simply looks you up and down before looking to Carmen.

“Would you turn the heat up in here Carmen, I’m freezing.” She exaggerates, before taking a seat at the table, completely dismissing your introduction.

“Ma, she was talkin’ to you, don’t be rude.” Carmy speaks, already becoming frustrated with his mother. She had the audacity to show drunk and disheveled, reeking of whiskey and then act rude towards his girlfriend.

“Didn’t hear her.” She shrugs, making herself at home and reaching for the bottle of wine which she grabs, pouring a generous amount into a glass and chugging.

“It’s fine baby, just turn the heat up, I’ll serve the food.” You brush his arm affectionately. You’d try to remain composed, you’d try not to let her win, after all it was your idea in the end to have her over and you weren’t going to crack easily.

Donna had somehow settled, the three of you eating in awkward silence, the only sound being the scraping of forks and knives and sips of wine, mostly on Donna’s part.

“So Mrs Berzatto, what’ve you been up to recently?” You attempt again at conversation with her.

“Not seeing my son obviously, since you’ve got him cooped up in here, you the reason he doesn’t even bother to call his mother anymore?” She drops her fork against her plate, a loud “clank” ringing throughout the room.

“Ma you know exactly why I haven’t called, stop tryna’ blame her.”

“Oh so now I’m the bad guy for missing my baby boy?” She stands dramatically from her seat, the table shaking slightly. She’s hysterical, tears beginning to stream down her face as she points an accusatory finger at you.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, tryna use my son for his money and steal him away from me.” Her arms are moving wildly and before you know it, the glass of wine had swung off the table, the glass shattering onto the white tile. A large puddle of red, dripping below the table.

“Fuck, shit, fuck I got it” Carmen groans, but you push him to sit back down. You already felt guilty for pressuring him into inviting his mom over, he knew how it would go but you’d been so stubborn.

“It’s fine I’ve got it Carmy.” You try reaching for the pieces of glass while you hear Donna continuing her blabbering rant. You’re so distracted that you don’t even realise the blood that begins to pour from your palm.

“Fuck” you mumble, not wanting to alarm Carmen, however you’re too late.

“See what you fuckin’ made her do ma? Get the fuck out of our house now, I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt for her and you treat her like this? Not fuckin’ havin it, we’re done here!” He shouts and his mother is stunned.

“You’re really going to speak to your own mother like that?”

“Yes, and I’m going to show you to the fuckin’ door now”

-

“You sure you okay baby, no more pain?” Carmen asks for what feels like the hundredth time, his lips grazing your bandaged hand.

“I’m sure Carmy, thank you for cleaning me up.” He just smiles at you, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Carmen?”

“Hmm?” It comes out muffled, the sensation tickling your neck.

“I’m sorry for pestering you, you were right about her”

“Don’t apologise, you were curious and you deserved to know and see for yourself.”

“I know but I shouldn’t have pressed you, you were just protecting me, and I love you for that.” He removes his face from your neck, kissing you tenderly and whispering a quiet “I love you too”

-

“Can I ask you something?” He questions later while the two of you are in bed, cuddled up under the sheets.

“Anything.” You assure.

“Does this change the way you see me?”

“Never, you’re not your mother Carmy.” And those words are assuring enough to allow him to fall asleep peacefully that night.

[cwritesforfun]

Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x Fem!Reader: Your Dad's Biggest Fan (Request)

Ginger = Your Name L/N = Your Last Name *** I do not own any of the Bear characters or plot***

Masterlist

Your POV - The Meet Cute

You write lifestyle reviews for Chicago in the Chicago Times and you often get to visit really cool events in the city that you love. You get to attend music festivals, visit new hotels, and just enjoy the city for pay. However, your favorite part is getting to try different kinds of cuisine in the city and you love to shout out places that you truly enjoy visiting because they all deserve success for their hard work. You've always enjoyed food and writing, so this felt like the perfect job for you.

Your father is an amazing cook with restaurants and Michelin stars to prove it. You're used to people using that information against you or for their personal benefit, so you stopped telling people about him. You even started going by your mother's maiden name, so nobody connected you to your father. Your work knows who your father is and you host the annual holiday party at one of his restaurants, which is fine to mix work and family once a year. Your friends like your father, but they don't use you to get to him, which is nice to have people who truly care about you. It's why you find it hard to date because people seek to use you at every turn.

Your work brings you joy and you love doing it. So getting an email from one of the chefs asking you to meet at their restaurant to talk terrifies you. You went to the Bear, a new restaurant that had once been a sandwich shop called the Beef. Your father liked their sandwiches and would often get them when he was on that side of Chicago. The Bear had just opened with a new menu and they hosted a press night where reviewers in the city came to discover more about the restaurant. You were sent by your newspaper company. You met up with other reviewers that were attending the event and you had a blast. The staff was courteous and kind, they also knew what you needed before you needed it. The food was hot and tasty and melted in your mouth. The bathrooms and space were clean. The wine selection matched perfectly with the meal. The Head Chef, Carmen Berzatto even came out of the kitchen to thank everyone. He was young and cute, and he seemed passionate about his place. You commended the event as one of your favorites and talked up the staff in your article. You even mentioned going to the Beef before it became the Bear. You showed your support, so you were confused about why you were being invited back for a chat. It worried you.

You get off the metro train and make your way over to the Bear. You show up outside and notice they're not even open. This makes you even more confused. You open the front door, step in, and see the staff all sitting at the tables eating lunch from what it looks like. They all turn to face you and you exclaim, 'Hi, I'm Ginger from the Chicago Times. I was told to meet Chef Carmen Berzatto here for a meeting now." The guy you recognize as the chef, Carmen Berzatto, looks up and says, "Oh wow you're on time." You reply, "Yes sir, I recognize that we all have a lot going on, so being punctual is always something I strive for. I usually am 10 minutes early to events, but the metro here was packed." A girl sitting at the table says, "I get that, I hate the metro. My name is Sydney. Nice to meet you, Ginger." You reply, "Nice to meet you, Sydney." You see a man near Camen Berzatto ask, "What made you get into reviews? Oh, and I'm Richie." You answer, "Hi Richie. Well I love writing and I love food, so I wanted to combine them for my job. My mom has always told me to work hard to succeed and that's what I did. Chicago Times liked some of my pieces for college and I started as an intern before I became the full-time lifestyle reviewer I am today. It's great." Richie asks, "And you've been to the Bear before opening?" You answer, "My father used to take me here growing up when I was a kid. And whenever I was on this side of town after college, I always returned to the Beef. You all were always packed and everyone was always friendly." Carmen Berzatto asks, "So you weren't lying in your article, that was all real?" You answer, "Yes sir. I am always completely open and honest about my experiences even if they're being paid for by the company. I never want to lie to readers or companies about what I feel." Carmen Berzatto replies, "Your article helped us a lot after you visited. People kept coming in mentioning the Chicago Times article and your support for us. We just wanted to see if you would sign some copies for us to keep." OH MY GOSH!!! Why am I going to cry?!?! You reply, "Oh my! I would be so happy too. That makes me so happy. I truly think you all deserve so much success. You can tell each of you has worked so hard to get to this point and you're all passionate about food. I am a happy supporter of The Bear." You sign copies of the newspaper, get a slice of cake to go, and you say goodbye to the staff. They encourage you to come back and they will push everyone out of the way to serve you, which you thank them for.

As you leave, you start walking down the street until you hear your name. You turn and see Carmen Berzatto running after you. You start walking back towards him and he stops running. You ask, "What's up?" He answers, "I just regret not telling you this one-on-one. I really did appreciate what you said and how you mentioned that I seemed so passionate even just from my small speech to everyone. It was nice to see that people could tell from one moment and it made me feel hopeful." You reply, "No problem, Carmen Berzatto. I can tell you'll do great things with the Bear." He smiles and says, "Please call me Carmy." You reply, "Ok then thank you Carmy." He smiles even wider and says, "I don't normally do this, but you seem so bright and happy. I just think if I don't ask then I'll never see you again and I want to see you again, so would you want to go out on a date?" You answer, "Sure. I'd love to. You already have my number, so just text me. I know you have a crazy schedule and I'm pretty open this month, so let me know when you want to go out." He nods and says, "Ok I will. You got it. Well, have a great rest of your day." You reply, "You too, Carmy."

That was the start of your relationship with Carmy.

Your POV - Telling Your Dad

You smile as Carmy texts you during your family dinner and your father asks, "Ginger, what are you smiling about? Surely it's the roast and potatoes, right? Or is there something you want to tell us?" Your father was honest like you, so there was no way to hide this any longer than you have been. You answer, "I have a boyfriend and we've been dating for 6 months. He is taking a 15-minute break at work right now, so he was texting me. He's a chef and his name is Carmy. He used to work at the Beef, but now it's the Bear." Your father says, "No way, I loved the Beef. I'd love to go sometime to the new restaurant, can you ask for his availability on Wednesdays? I'm always off on Wednesdays and you, your mom, and I can go eat there one day or night. It doesn't have to be next week, but by the end of the month would be cool. I'd love to meet your boyfriend." You reply, "Sure Dad. I can ask." He replies, "Good good. Now tell me more about him and his food." You laugh and talk with your family.

Your POV - Telling Your Boyfriend

You did the nice thing and told your boyfriend about your family wanting to eat at his restaurant on a Wednesday day or night. Carmy was excited and he was able to find a table 2 weeks after that you could sit at for a lunch service. Carmy even told you that lunches are calmer, so he could stop by for his break to talk to your family. Richie would be working as your server, which you liked because Richie could talk and your father loved to ask questions.

It's one week away and Carmy is cooking you both dinner. He always takes off at least one night a week to have a normal night with you and you love it. It's always nice and his food is amazing.

After dinner, you turn on the TV and it's your dad's cooking show. Carmy hands you a glass of wine and your box of cookies before you ask, "How do you feel about cooking shows?" Carmy sits next to you on the couch and answers, "You know how I feel about them. They're just ways for chefs to promote themselves and their businesses, which is nice. But usually, they do it because you get paid a lot. Why?" You answer, "Oh uh well Chef L/N's cooking show was on. I just wondered how you felt about his show." He replies, "I admire the he** out of him. He's inspirational. The way he compliments each drink from appetizer to dinner to dessert on his menu is next-level genius. His staff are also brilliant at transforming the guest experience. I want the Bear to have that level of success. And..." Carmy then goes on a whole monologue about your father and how he loves him. You smile and say, "Ok well let's just say he is my dad and you're meeting him next week. He'd probably love to hear that from you." Carmy gasps and asks, "What are you talking about?" You answer, "I don't ever tell people about my dad because they use me... but you're meeting him next week and I think you should know who he is before then. The last name I've been using for the last 6 months is my mother's maiden name." He replies, "Holy sh**!!! And he's going to be at my restaurant next week! He's been to the Beef several times." You reply, "Oh don't bring that up. He misses the Beef like crazy." He laughs and replies, "Okay. Wow, let's not watch his cooking show right now. I think I'll go crazy." You laugh and turn on a movie.

NEXT WEEK ~ YOUR POV

You spent the night with Carmy and at 5 am as he is getting ready, you hand him your coffee and exclaim, "I'll see you at noon baby." He gasps and says, "Oh sh** I am cooking for my idol today. I need my lucky knife and my lucky shirt." He then starts running around frantically and you rub your eyes. Is he freaking out? Is it too early for this? You are tired. You move in front of Carmy as he walks and you place your hands on either side of his arms. You say, "Please, don't freak out. Treat today like a normal day. Be calm and you've got this. My father is just a normal human at the end of the day. Remember that." He replies, "Yeah yeah. I'm going to tell my staff beforehand because this is big." You reply, "Okay. Well, goodbye and good luck." You send him out with a kiss on his lips.

Hours later, you show up at your house and are driving to the Bear with your parents. You park nearby and walk to the restaurant.

As you walk there, you ask, "Hey Dad, can I tell you something?" Your father answers, "What's up sweetie?" You answer, "Carmy is a huge fan of yours and nearly freaked out this morning. He was calm when I first told him, but today was bad. He couldn't find his lucky shirt and he said his lucky knife was at work. I just want you to go easy on him because I really care about him." Your father replies, "No problem, sweetheart."

You arrive and Neil Fak greets you happily. He shows you to the table and Richie immediately pops up. Richie's jaw drops a little at seeing my father, but he quickly recovers. Richie introduces the Bear and the menu then leaves to get the wine my father chose.

My father exclaims, "I like this place. The people are friendly." My mother adds, "And their service is fast." You reply, "Carmy told them that Dad was going to be here. I think they're all nervous and excited." My mother replies, "I bet they are. Poor things. We should invite them over. Are they ever closed?" You answer, "Mondays. They sometimes are unloading and restocking stock though, so they go in for half the day. You should ask Carmy for the specifics." Your father replies, "Oh I have a few things to ask ole Carmy boy now." You reply sternly, "Dad." He replies, "Ok fine. It's nothing bad. Don't worry."

Richie returns and you're all served. You three eat up the food and it's delicious as always. Dessert shows up and you notice Carmy walking your way. You notice his hands are a little shaky and you stand up. You hug him as soon as he reaches you and he presses a kiss to your cheek before you whisper, "He's just a person. It's all fine." You kiss his lips gently before introducing him to your parents. He slides into the seat next to you as you three talk over dessert. Conversation flows and is going well.

My father asks, "So, I hear you really like my daughter and she really likes you." Carmy smiles and says, "Yes sir. I really like your daughter." My father asks, "And what are your intentions with her?" Carmy answers, "Well sir... uh... I really like her and I'm falling in love with her. She's always supportive and kind. She lights up every room she walks in and people like her. I find her to be the person in my life that I look to for cheering up. I also think I cheer her up. You'd have to ask her though. I just think she's the most perfect and amazing that a person can be... and she has you as her father. Sir, I've looked up to you for a while. I think your work ethic and your drive set you apart from other chefs. Your show doesn't feel like a money grab and it's clear to me you love your family, which is great." My father smiles and says, "Well I appreciate it, son. Now do you think your staff would be free on Monday afternoon? Ginger says you have to unload stock, but I assume you get hungry doing all that heavy lifting. I'd love to treat your staff to some lunch at mine." Carmy replies, "Sure sir. That sounds amazing. We're usually done by 2 pm, but then we'll have to drive there. I'm not sure how long it takes, but I'm sure no later than 3:00 is fine for us." My mother replies, "Great, we cannot wait to host. We'll have Ginger give you the address and times. You can give her the number of staff that will show up, so we can plan accordingly." Carmy nods and my father asks, "Can I say thank you to your staff? I noticed they kept trying to get a glimpse of me from the kitchen. I just want to thank them and you. I really did have a lovely time this afternoon and would love to come again." Carmy answers, "Yeah haha they'd really love to hear it. I better get back to work. I'll see you all soon then." He kisses you, hugs your parents, and goes back to the kitchen.

Your father goes in after him and you watch through the window at your father giving some big speech. You see the smiles on everyone's faces and you're happy for them all. You notice your father pat Carmy on the back and you laugh. Carmy is going to freak out. HAHA!

NEXT WEEK on Monday ~ YOUR POV

You had asked for a half day at work and you were still at work at 2:00 pm in a meeting. It finished, you quickly packed up, sent your last emails, and dashed to the metro. You hopped on and went to your family home.

As you walk your way down your street, you see cars parked out front of your house. I guess everyone from the Bear is already there. Hopefully, your father has kept the questioning Carmy to a minimum. Carmy told you last week that it was so exciting to have him there and meet my family. He also said his staff couldn't stop talking about the meal at your parent's place.

You knock and your mother opens it. She pulls you into a hug and says, "Oh hi sweetie. I thought you would be here earlier." You reply, "I tried to leave, Mom. But I didn't want to leave in the middle of the meeting." She replies, "You're just like your father... Speaking of, your boyfriend has been helping him this afternoon and they seem to be getting along. You should grab him and get him to eat. He's only been eating little snacks with your father." You laugh and say, "Ok Mom." She replies, "You look lovely sweetie. You in business casual make us all look lame." You laugh and say, "I was actually going to change up in my room real quick before I say hi to people." She nods and she lets you go. You finish changing in your bathroom and jump when you see Carmy in your bedroom looking around. You exclaim, "Hey Carmy. What are you doing up here?" He sees you and smiles. You kiss him and he answers, "Your mom said you had to talk to me. You were in the bathroom, so I just waited out here." You reply, "My mom thinks you've been working too hard today. She said you started helping him when you got here and she wanted you to have lunch. She wanted you to see me so she knew you were being looked after. It's a mom thing." He replies, "Oh that's really sweet of her. I can take a break and eat with my lovely girlfriend." You reply, "I almost thought you said eat your lovely girlfriend." He gasps and replies, "Babe, we're at your family home. Oh speaking of it, your mom did show your baby album to everyone. Everyone loved it. You were so cute." You reply, "We're making a pit stop to talk to my mom first then we can eat." He laughs then follows you.

You make a plate of food and find space on a couch next to Sydney. Carmy slides next to you and puts an arm around your waist. Everyone starts asking you about your baby photos. Oh gosh... this is great. Richie seems to like this one where you resemble a gremlin and everyone suddenly thinks you need bangs again.

Your father pulls a chair up and so does your mom. Everyone talks, laughs, and enjoys the day.

Masterlist

[moonlight-sonata99]

Walk the line

Trigger warnings: domestic fights,talk about addiction, suicide mentions. Loss. Alot of cussing.

No.1

Mikey

Carmy Berzatto x reader

A/n: I love carmy bro - but yea, this is uh..a passion project, honestly. I haven't wrote in a hot minute. But..I feel confident. Btw. This story will focus alot on addiction, not the Reader specifically, though. But her dad.

Slow burn/angst/comedy

The sounds of furniture falling and glass breaking behind the door as it Slams open and her face is red and her chest rises up and down quickly as the man behind her on the floor his cheek red from the hit he received from his daughter as his wife stands beside shocked, unable to move the only sound was them getting their stuff and leaving before making their way out the door they looks back and points their finger at the man who's cheeks are red his left a bit bloody

"Dont fucking talk to me unless you've been sober for a year. you hear me?" They breathe out as their mom calls out to them as they turn their back to their parents and rush away. Only leaving the cries of their mother and their father left on the floor as the sound of the ambulance gets closer and closer. 

That was a while ago.

Since then, i think i've done well. Maybe. Got a job at some restaurant,the boss is cool. The coolest boss I might have had Honestly. Micheal Berzatto, AKA… Mikey, I've known him about… maybe a few months now? It's been a while since I've been "away" from home, anyways yea. Been working at this cool joint called the beef. Everyone feels like one big friend group. Yeah, it's really nice. I got a nice apartment, too. Well, " nice" is better than any other house that deadbeat ever got us.

 Anyways, yeah. I hope you've been well ma. I sent you money with this. Don't try to send it back. And don't let that asshole see you with it.

I'm doing good, So don't worry.

With much love. 

"Hey,speaking of assholes, what's the big deal with this brother?" You ask, looking down at the piece of onion you were cutting as mikey cooked behind you. 

"Asshole? Ooh you mean my brother carmy? " He replies, keeping his gaze on the meat. 

"yeah"

"Well there's a lot to say about him " he breathes out but a smile can obviously be detected in his voice 

"Well then tell me about him genius" 

"hes not your type " Tina chimes in as the rest laugh,

"Thats not- Okay, maybe that's why i asked. But if you really say so, " you reply, shrugging and putting the knife down and leaving the onions to grilI as - you turned to look at him. But he kept his back to you as he began to speak.

"no yeah- Carm… little brother Carmen. he's a chef in some fancy restaurant, nice right? " He admitted, watching the knife gliding through the meat smoothly.

"for real?" you gasped out looking at his back,

"for fucking real."

Remembering when that had happened. Mikey had a smile on his face when he spoke about his brother. Later on, you learned the two weren't on speaking terms. A part of you cursed yourself out of even having the gall to ask about a slightly  sensitive topic, but another part of yourself felt...good to know at least he didn't hate his brother, Who'd want to hate their own siblings? 

You knew better than to intervene.

It was february 21st, as you gathered your sweater, in the corner of your eye, you noticed Michael sitting in his office looking at a small white envelope. 

"Hey, mikey," you guy, as you knocked lightly before entering his office, and he looked up his eyes, meeting yours.

" hey- " he coughed  " hey whats up? " he said, rubbing his nose with the tips of his fingers. 

" I should be asking you that '' you reply, putting on your bag.' You okay ? You've been… out of it these past few days. '' You say, tilting your head slightly.

"Im good" he mumbles out his hand over his mouth as he nods. 

" Okay … if you ever need anything, just call me. Okay?" 

" Gotcha," he says as you nod and make your way outside.

"hey uh be careful " he yells out as you heal out the door and the leans against his office door frame as you turn your head back to look at him.

" Yeah you too mikey" 

Hey ma, me again. It's been a hot  minute since I sent you a message. in terms of like… talking. i just wanted to check up on you. Make sure everything is okay, y'know? i'll be honest. I haven't been doing so well. if were being honest…  I lost a friend. a good friend. Mikey, he Uh… Comitted  suicide. and i don't know how to feel. Well,I feel sad. I spent… all week crying. 

Yea i have brothers, but Mikey felt like the brother I never had.

due to moving so much as a kid, i didn't have any friends.

no girlfriends, boyfriends.

i didn't want any if i'm honest.

but Mikey changed that.In terms of friendship I mean.

i remember when i first met him, i was about to blow him off because he was pestering me about his  restaurant. i mean, i was working for Petes sake. But he was loud,

and i gave in.

after that he let me into his family, albeit made of people working in a restaurant.

you know that thing when Companies say their employees are family and it's usually bullshit??

Yea,Mikey always meant that shit. 

 

Ritchie told me his brothers were coming to take over. I'm not sure how to feel about it . The asshole didn't even come his funeral. Anyway, yeah, that what has been up with me. Sorry for suddenly dumping all of this on you.

i lost a good friend. 

A/n: I really like writing for this series, honestly. Please tell me if you guys want more :]

[atinylittlepain]

Oh Baby - A Carmy Berzatto Story

dad!carmen berzatto x f!reader

carmy masterlist

a small family, a new family, trying to figure this thing out.

warnings | 18+ angst surrounding being new parents, work stress, but enough fluff to make up for it, i promise

a/n | this sweet little piece comes from a lovely request sent to me over DM, thank you so much for sending this my way, i hope i've done it justice. Also have to thank the cousins @tieronecrush and @northernbluess for reading this bad boy and letting me scream about the bear, love ya both

........................

He’s running late. It started with a question from Sydney about one of the new menu items, and then it was Sugar needing to show him a quote for some inspection they still need to get done. And then there was something with one of the new chefs, though he can’t really remember what it was right now as his brain fries with how late he is. 

He told her he’d be home by midnight at the latest, finish dinner service and get his ass home immediately. He had even made a joke about getting home just in time to give their girl her seemingly routine middle of the night bottle. But it’s now two in the morning and he’s only just getting on the L to get back to their apartment. 

It’s not like he has a hard time with the late nights. In fact, he always thrived on this chaotic rhythm. But he knows it’s not doing her or their girl any good. Getting home and crashing in bed, useless until ten in the morning, no help with breakfast or getting their girl dressed and ready for the day, shuffling into the living room to find her already working at her desk, her foot keeping a steady rock to the bassinet right next to it. A few days ago, the fleeting thought that she looked like a single mother, and then an immediate clench and clash of pain sliding through his chest. It’s the same feeling he has right now on the train, building and beating until he has to put his palm right over the hurt, like he might be able to press it out with the heel of his hand. 

He could slow down, everyone at the restaurant has offered that up to him. Shorter shifts, only there when he’s really needed, whole days off. So he doesn’t know why he can’t just accept that, why he’s still holding onto the restaurant with white knuckles. And right now, he’s too tired to give it much thought beyond how badly he wants things to be different. No more disappointed sighs, no more ships in the night, no more making promises only to break them. 

He’s only a little surprised when he walks into their apartment that the light in the kitchen is on, her light murmurings filtering through, enough to make that hurt even worse. He finds them standing in front of the microwave, waiting for a bottle to be warmed up, and for a moment, what a sight it is. She’s wearing an old The Beef t-shirt, legs bare and set in a slow shuffle side-to-side, her cheek pressed over the top of their girl’s head where she’s held in her arms, eyes dropped shut. A small smile that slides away when her eyes crack open to see him standing in the doorway. 

“You’re home.” It’s barely rasped on a whisper, a small frown pulling down each word. He considers for a moment that he’d really like for the ground to swallow him up right about now. 

“I’m sorry, baby, I–” His words crack when their girl starts to fuss, small coos and whimpers, tiny fists balled and pressing against her mom’s chest to arch her back away from her hold. And there it is, that sigh, that small collapse of her shoulders as she gets the bottle out of the microwave, no longer looking at him, brushing right past him to go sit down in the living room. He follows on her heels with all the timidity of a scolded dog. 

“I can do it, if you wanna go lay back down. It’s– I’d like–” 

“I can do it, Carmen.” Still not looking at him, her eyes focused on their girl, finger skating down the rounding of her cheek as she latches onto the bottle. He knows it’s one of the ways she tries to even the score with him, a petty thing to not let him partake in or watch this small wonder. When she was first born, and she was still breast-feeding, and he was still on a Sugar-mandated paternity leave, he’d hover endlessly. Just over her shoulder, watching the way their girl's hand splayed over her sternum like a perfect flower as she latched on, whispering in awe at her contented sighs and eager gulps. Always dropping a kiss to her temple, small words of love and gratitude, her chin tilting up, basking in them, warmth in the way she would look up at him. 

But now, now she’s looking at him with all of the kindness of a prison inmate, eyes blank and jaw set as she cups the back of their girl’s head, smoothing out the mass of curls already growing, just like his. For a moment, only fleeting, anger starts to rise like bile up the back of his throat. Anger that he’s here now, wanting so badly to be here now, and she’s the one boxing him out. But that anger is gone in a blink because he can see the way her eyes are starting to swim, red-rimmed and heavy down her cheeks. And he can see the way her lip is starting to tremble too, even as she coos and hums to their girl when she starts to fuss with the bottle. He can’t be angry when she’s hurting like that, when he’s the one who has made her hurt like that. 

He kneels down in front of where she’s sitting on the couch, a small relief that she doesn't flinch away when his palms come to rest on her knees. He can tell that she’s trying not to break, little sniffs to hold back the flood as their girl continues to suckle. 

“I don’t want it to be like this.” 

“Neither do I, Carm.” Said on a sigh, like, sure, nice words, not expecting anything to come of them though. 

“Tell me what I can do to make this different.” 

“I’m dumbfounded by the fact that you’re asking me to tell you what to do. Do you really not know?” Quick and clipped, still whispered so that it doesn’t disturb their girl as she finishes her bottle. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to arrange the right words to respond.

“You’re right.” The best that he can come up with at two in the morning, though at least it’s the truth. She just sighs though, shaking his hands off her knees so that she can stand up. And this hurts too, how easily she can do this by herself, or at least how easy she makes it look, transferring their girl to one arm as she pads back into the kitchen. A little more space between them as he follows behind her, watching how she holds the bottle against her hip to get the top screwed off, rocking and shushing their girl all the while as she soaps up the bottle. 

“Baby, let me do that. I can, here, just let me–”

“Goddamnit, Carm.” Still whispered, but still sharp, enough for their girl to let out a whine at her sudden exclamation, though she’s quick to soothe and calm against her shoulder. 

“Do you want to know why I don’t let you help? It’s because I’m trying to get used to doing this on my own.” 

“What?” It feels like the floor has dropped out from under him, a skittering, sickening feeling running up and down his spine. He wants more than anything to reach for her, for both of them, to thumb away the tears that are starting to fall even as she tries to steel her jaw. All he can do to ball his hands into fists over and over.

“You’re not here, Carmen. And when you are, it’s like– it’s like I’m living with a stranger. You told me before we had her that you would be here, that things at the restaurant were going to change. And I’m getting tired of waiting for that to happen.” 

“What are you saying right now?” She scrunches her eyes shut for a moment, pure frustration, and complete exhaustion, all the while still rocking their girl. 

“I’m saying that if this is how it’s going to be, I don’t know if I can keep doing this with you. My sister–”

“No.”

“Carm–”

“No. That isn’t– that’s not– you can’t just take her from me like that. We– we said we would do this together.”

“We already aren’t doing this together, Carm. And I’m just– I’m tired.” There isn’t any more to say, not now. She doesn’t look at him again, brushing past him through the doorway of the kitchen to get to the nursery down the hall. He doesn’t try to follow, numbly shuffling back to the couch, a full body slump, tilting his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose when the tears start to prickle. He listens to all the small sounds, stealing snippets of her humming, the quiet padding of her bare feet into their bedroom, the rustling of sheets. And then perfect silence, except for the broken exhales he keeps trying to stifle. 

…

Sleep happens, somehow. Curled onto his side on the couch, but not for long, the watery blue glint of dawn slanting in through the blinds when he’s woken up to the sound of their girl’s quiet babblings. The nursery is closer to the living room, so he’s almost certain she hasn’t been woken up by the sound yet. But he also knows that those soft coos will soon turn into full-blown wails, so he gets up, biting back a groan as his spine shifts and crackles upright before stumbling into the nursery.

Everyone seems to call their girl something different. She calls her bean, or sometimes pearl, any iteration of small, precious things, usually with a my in front of the word. Richie calls her cub, or cubby, a fitting choice given her father’s nickname. Sugar calls her curl because of that head of hair she’s already grown into. Sydney calls her miso baby, though it all comes out as one word like misobaby, on account of the cravings for broth and noodles her mother incurred while she was pregnant with her, something that Sydney was always happy to accommodate whenever she stopped by the restaurant. Carmy’s is less creative, he thinks, the first word he remembers coming to mind when he first held her in his arms, somewhere between wonder and utterly sweet devastation at the sight. 

“Hey, little, what’s going on in here?” It always shocks him, how light his whole world is when he picks her up in his arms, and how easily her cheek settles against his chest, his palm smoothing the small shake of her cries between the fragile wings of her shoulder blades. He remembers being terrified the first time he held her, that he’d somehow manage to ruin this most perfect thing. Laying in her hospital bed, watching, she reassured him that he wouldn’t, that he couldn’t, that perfect came from him just as much as it came from her. 

“It’s breakfast time, isn’t it? We’re gonna let your mom sleep in, okay? I’ve got it.” He drops his lips to the crown of her head, taking a long breath in as he shuffles out to the kitchen. And he does have it under control, after all, he knows how to follow a recipe. 

He keeps her close in one arm, only fumbling a little with the one-handed bottle into the microwave production, but he manages. And then onto the couch and honestly, he thinks it’s a little holy, it certainly feels that way. Watching her eyes slip shut in contentment as she drinks from the bottle, her tiny gasp and sigh when she’s all done. How could anything ever be as good as this? He doesn’t think it’s possible.

“Think we oughta make breakfast for your mom, huh? You wanna help?” She gurgles over his shoulder as he finishes burping her. He’ll take that as a yes. He maneuvers her high chair into the doorway of the kitchen with about as much grace as his one-handed abilities will allow him, trying hard to stay silent, peering down the hall to make sure she hasn’t woken up yet. Coast clear, he settles their girl into the high chair and gets to work. 

There’s a slightly old half of a loaf of brioche on the counter, something he brought home a few days ago, one of Marcus’ new projects. Eggs and milk in the fridge, so his plan is already forming. 

“You know, when I first met your mom– you’re a little too young for the details, but– the morning after, I made her french toast. I think it got me a second date.” He whisks up the eggs and milk quick, a pinch of cinnamon like he knows how she likes it. 

“I think for a while she was just coming back for the french toast. But I didn’t care, I was just happy that she kept coming back.” Butter melting deep and golden in the pan, and then the silent sizzle and snap of the battered slices of bread frying up perfect. He glances over to their girl in between checking on the bread in the pan.

“You weren’t done, were you, little? I’m sorry, I got you.” A little spit-up down the front of her onesie. He stretches between the stove and her high chair to dab it up with a clean dish towel, not even trying to resist the want to press a kiss to her forehead, earning him an exasperated gurgle from her.

“Already too cool for me, huh?” She smiles, showing off the two new teeth that have only started to come in. He doesn’t think he’s ready for any more teeth to start coming in yet.

He’s just plating up the first few slices when his ears prick to the sound of stirring, what sounds like a stretch groaning in her chest from down the hall. Bare feet padding, stopping at the nursery, he’s sure, and then coming closer, his heart starting to kick up in anticipation. 

“Good morning, my bean.” He can hear the kiss she drops to their girl’s cheek, and he chances a glance over to see her bending over the back of the high chair to nuzzle her face into their girl’s, contented giggles bubbling up in her small chest at her mother’s ministrations. His heart stutters stop for a moment before the gears start to turn again in a much better rhythm. But too long of a glance because–

“Oh shit.” The smell of singe, one of the slices burnt up and unsalvageable. He’s quick to scrape it out of the pan. Still plenty to make this right, okay, not perfect though. He was going for perfect.

“What’s all this?” She’s being quiet, not looking at him as she gathers their girl out of the high chair and into her arms, a small sway side to side. 

“I, um, breakfast– you hungry?” 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. Go sit, I’ll get it.” 

“Did she–”

“Yeah, I fed her.” She’s finally looking at him, bewilderment rounding and widening her eyes, though she quietly nods and shuffles through the kitchen. A soft graze past him and toward the small dining table they have set up in front of the windows, now letting in the first honeyed light of the morning. 

Two slices, steam still rising and melting down a sliver of butter. Syrup on the side because she doesn’t like it to get soggy. And a plate for himself too because he knows she’ll tell him to eat, even as mad at him as she is now. 

She keeps their girl in her lap, her arm curled around the soft round of her belly to hold her upright, and he can’t help but smile, sitting down across from them. A small sigh with her first bite and it feels like the greatest relief, something slackening beneath his ribs. 

“I didn’t play fair last night. I’m sorry, Carm.” Always beating him to the punch, he hates that she’s apologizing.

“No, you were right. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m gonna make some changes, okay?” She sighs, her lashes dropped to the tops of her cheeks, not buying it. And he doesn’t blame her, he’s talked about changes in the past. Though the changes have yet to happen. 

“Baby, I’m serious. I’m gonna talk to Sugar today and get this figured out. Not gonna keep messing this up.” 

“You aren’t messing up, Carmen. I know how important that restaurant is to you. And maybe it’s selfish, but I just want you here more, with us. You’re missing so much, and I don’t want that for you.” Their girl chooses that moment to start to squirm in her hold, pressing the dough of her palms into the edge of the table to stand up in her mother’s lap, turning around and wrapping her small arms around her mother’s neck, making a smile get big and bright on her face as she smacks a string of kisses on her cheek, a quiet thank you, my bean. Missing things like this, he thinks. His heart aches with it. 

“Nothing is more important than this. I think when she came– I was just like– holy shit, you know?” Her smile tempers, settling on him as she continues to accommodate the squirms and shuffling of their girl in her lap. 

“Yeah, I’m familiar with that feeling.” 

“This isn’t an excuse, I know it isn’t. But, I don’t know, I think I believed that if I could just work harder, make sure the restaurant was good and money was coming in that– that it’d somehow make me feel less terrified.”

“Terrified?” 

“Of getting this all wrong. I just– Jesus Christ, I want everything for her.” There’s more he’d like to say, but he cuts himself off with a resigned laugh, holding his head in his hand as he watches their girl twist around in her mother’s arms again, looking at him now like somehow she knows he’s talking about her. And then a small hand reaching out across the table. Small hand reaching for him.

She gets up with a sigh, rounding the edge of the table, an easy pass-off, their girl’s hands grasping at his t-shirt, the same one he came home in last night. He holds her close, taking another deep inhale of the crown of her head before looking up at her mom. Her mom, his woman, his partner, who carefully runs her fingers back through his mussed hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. 

“There are so many people also working to make sure that restaurant is good, Carm, and it is. But I– we need you here, we just do.” Her palm slips down along his cheek, and he turns his head to press a kiss to the center of it. A much smaller hand tugs at his curls to get his attention, making him laugh as he drops a kiss to their girl’s temple. 

“You’re right. This is where I need to be. I don’t want you having to do this on your own anymore.” He gets up with a sigh, hiking their girl onto his hip, reaching out for her with his other arm, his fingers curling behind the nape of her neck, a small coaxing that she allows, pressing her forehead against his.

“We’re gonna do this together, alright? I’m here, and I’m gonna figure out how to keep being here.” An answer in the way her nose brushes along the side of his, an okay. And the realization that he can’t remember the last time they were this close is enough to bridge what space is left between them, more of a sigh than a kiss, but he’ll take it. Quick to be interrupted by quiet fussing and a small fist pressing against his cheek, both of them pulling away with a laugh to look at their seemingly perturbed girl. 

“I think we’ve made a small monster.” She says it absolutely dripping in affection, her hand coming to brush their girl’s sleep-tufted hair back from her face. 

“Maybe, yeah. She’s still fucking perfect though.” He snakes his arm around her waist, pulling her close so their girl is half-sandwiched between them, eyes wide as she babbles up at them both.

“We have to stop saying fuck around her, Carm. It’s gonna end up being her first word.” 

“She’ll fit right in at the restaurant that way.” 

A small family, a new family, figuring it out in their sun-soaked kitchen. Tired eyes and bare feet and quiet laughs. And there’s going to be more messing up, he already knows that. Both him and her. Passing sorry back and forth, willing and receiving. But this is enough to make it right, to keep going. This can be perfect. 

[thebearer]

love me tomorrow |carmen berzatto x reader| part three

prompt: after time apart, you and carmen meet up for the first time since the fight.

or part three and the final part of the devastation fic (spoiler- the resolution haha). part one and part two can be found here :)

contains: angst. hurt with comfort (finally lol). mentions of mean!carmen, past fighting. past trauma, family trauma. carmen's been to therapy (yay). language. mom!reader x dad!carmen. fluff at the end, i had to make it a little funny and end on a light note bc it felt so heavy lol. word count- 4.7k+

“He’s here,” Sugar announced, the chime of a doorbell following nearly cinematically. 

Your shoulders tightened, stomach twisting with an ache of nerves you tried to swallow. You were so nervous- why were you so nervous? He’d fucked up, not you. He was here to grovel and beg for forgiveness, not you. Still, you felt your hairline prick with heat, hands clammy when you heard the door opening downstairs. 

“Okay,” You tried to steady your voice, exhaling slowly out of your nose. “I’m almost done.” 

Sugar nodded, not leaving, keeping her post behind you. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Sugar looked at you through the mirror, arms folded over her chest, watching you carefully for a sign- anything that would give her a red flag, make her call this off. 

“I know,” You swallowed your buzzing nerves, jittery in the pit of your belly. 

“I’ll tell him to go away. You give me the word, and I’ll kick him out.” Sugar stood, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you. “Seriously. One wrong word, wrong look, anything, he’s gone. Say the word.” 

You gave a small smile. “I think I’ll be alright, but thank you.” You muttered, looking down at your bare ring finger. You still found yourself reaching for your ring, heart spiking in a panic when you’d see it was gone, only to sink when you remembered why- why you left it. 

“I feel like it’s time.” You admitted, trying to convince yourself more than Natalie. You were still unsure, so jarred and hurt by the last time you’d spoken to Carmen. The things he’d said, how he’d hurt you. “I think we have to figure something out.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Sugar gave you a pointed look. “Trust me, if this was me, Pete would never live that down- never. He’d be at my mercy for the rest of his life, if I even let him back into it.” 

You knew Natalie wasn’t joking, that she would do just as she said, but that was also easy for her to say; when Pete could not fathom ever thinking those things about her, let alone saying them to her. Sometimes you wished Carmen could be softer, a little more like Pete in that way. 

“He’s been going to therapy,” Richie’s voice played in your mind. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Tryna get better for you, for both of you. He loves you, you know that, sweetheart. He’s just… He’s fucked up, y’know? We all are a little, but he’s workin’ on it.” 

You hoped that was true. For your marriage, for your baby. Sugar and Pete had been taking Teddy to see Carmen. You couldn't bring yourself to see him yet, but depriving him of Teddy felt cruel and inhumane. 

Downstairs, you could hear her gurgling, Carmen’s soft tone greeting her in hushed excitement. It soothed you, even for just a moment, it felt familiar- felt like home. What you’d missed so badly, what you longed for to have again. 

“Uncle Carm, why haven’t you been staying here too?” MJ’s tiny squeak of a voice rang up the stairs, greeting you as you quietly crept down them. 

“MJ,” Pete muttered, shaking his head gently. “C’mon, bud, you know Uncle Carm’s been on a business trip.” 

“Right, yeah.” Carmen nodded, his hand patting Teddy’s back gently, soothing her and him. Just feeling the weight of her back on his chest, it put him at ease. She was bigger now, longer than he remembered, but he tried not to think about that, nose pressing into her soft tufts of hair. 

MJ saw you first, his face falling into a pout. “Aw, does that mean you’re going home?” He whined, looking at you then back at Carmen. “Are you takin’ Anchovy and Teddy?” 

Anchovy skittered towards you, running up the stairs at the mention of his name. He’d been a trooper with MJ and Maggie, both kids enamored with the cat who was less than impressed with them. 

Carmen stiffened at the sight of you, spine rigid, heart skipping and falling in his chest. There was a pause of awkward uncertainty, neither of you sure what to say. “If you’re good,” Sugar stepped in. “Maybe your aunt and uncle will let you play with them a little longer while they go out.” She looked at you, shrugging gently at the suggestion. 

You looked at Carmen, eyes meeting him in a brief, unsure gaze, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be- that would be great, MJ.” You gave a soft smile to the boy. 

Carmen stood, passing Teddy off to Sugar with a quiet muttering of thanks. He met you in the doorway, hand reaching for yours, but stopping himself, pulling back hesitantly. Instead, he held the door open, letting you pass by him first. 

The car smelled like a mix of cleaning supply, masked with car fresheners he’d stuck in the vents. He’d been smoking, more than usual, you were sure of it. He’d gotten down to one a day after Teddy was born, paranoid that he’d give her asthma or a rash or something worse. 

“Um,” Carmen hesitated, his voice shaking in a way that he hadn’t since your first date. “I was… I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere t-to talk?” Carmen’s gaze met yours, lips pressing together, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 

You nodded, your hands clasped in your lap, both of you too rigid, too uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You looked down at your nails. “We could go get coffee? Go to the one by the restaurant.” 

Carmen’s heart burned with a dull ache. The coffee shop a block from The Bear had been a staple in your relationship. When you’d first moved in together, to the shitty downtown apartment to be closer to the restaurant, Carmen would go every Sunday. Sometimes he’d pick up, other times you’d come with him, sit in the corner seat side by side in a booth- like the couples you used to roll your eyes at, lovesick. 

Someone was already sitting in that booth when you got there, so you settled for a small two seater in the back, secluded and empty. Carmen brought you your coffee without asking, he knew the order by heart now, etched into his mind permanently. 

“Thank you,” You muttered, accepting the paper cup, your eyes not meeting his, but your hands brushing. You didn’t pull away this time. 

Carmen sat across from you, a dread filled silence falling thick between the two of you. His knee bouncing under the table. “I, uh, I wanna talk first if-if that’s good with you.” Carmen’s eyes lifted under his ball cap, pulled low on his head, curls peaking out. 

You nodded, twisting the paper cup around on the table, too nervous to drink it. Carmen took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. “Take a deep breath before you start. It’s ok to take a second to get your words in order, Carmen. Collect your thoughts.” Dr. Mullins’ words rang through his head. 

“I wanna start by saying that I’m sorry.” Carmen looked at you when he said it, eyes rounding in a pathetically sweet way. “I-I’m sorry and I…I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never- It wasn’t you.” 

You looked down at the table, the familiar heat burning in your nose and throat, a threat of tears already. “Hey,” Carmen said firmly, leaning forward. “C’mon, look at me. Please?” You look at him hesitantly, jaw clenching, trying to keep yourself from crying. 

Carmen held your gaze, his lips pressing together in a tight line to keep his own emotions in. “It wasn’t you.” His gaze was intense but soft all at once, holding yours. “It… It was all me. All of it. I-I was overwhelmed, I was stressed, I fucked up, a-and-” Carmen’s voice cracked, breaking at the end, his hand running over his face to try and calm himself. 

You felt your own eyes well with tears, chin ducking closer into yourself, leaning towards him. You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand that rested on the table, squeeze it in comfort like you always did. Instead, you looked at him, waiting for him to continue. 

“And I shouldn’t have said any of that shit because-because none of it was true.” Carmen continued, his voice strained. 

“So why’d you say it then?” You surprised yourself with the firmness in your tone, edging on a snap. 

Carmen blinked, surprised but not entirely shocked. His knee bounced faster and faster under the table. He took a second, holding his breath before exhaling, trying to keep the growing tightness in his chest to a minimum. 

“I was stressed. I was tired. I-I was overwhelmed, and… and I was an asshole.” Carmen admitted, but you still didn’t seem convinced. You knew him better than anyone, better than Dr. Mullins, better than even Fak or Richie or Sugar. 

“I… I was hurting. I was hurting an-and I was so fuckin’ angry. I don’t-I don’t even know why I was so angry.” Carmen admitted, nodding slowly, eyes flickering from your gaze to his hands nervously. “I just… I think I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting. I just, I don’t know, I wanted someone else to feel like I was, an-and I should have- it was fuckin’ stupid, an-and selfish, and…” 

Your eyes were glassy with tears you tried to hide, blinking a tear that fell down your cheek, wiping it quickly. Carmen’s chest ached, burned with hurt at the sight of you. 

“And I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” He looked at you sincerely. “I-I-I never said anything more untrue and fuckin’ stupid in my life.” 

“You…” You took a breath, your voice shaking with emotions. “You really hurt my feelings, Carmen.” You admitted looking at him. He nodded, jaw flexing, neck blossoming with splotches of emotion. 

“I just don’t really understand how-how you didn’t mean to say those things. I mean, clearly you-you’ve thought that before.” Your voice lifted higher and higher, climbing with a cry that threatened to break. “I know you’re saying you didn’t mean those things, and I get that, but my problem is you’ve thought them before-” 

“-No, no, I swear-” 

“-You have, Carmen. Clearly you have. You wouldn’t- You didn’t just come up with that shit out of nowhere.” Your voice was beginning to climb, trying to level it out in the cafe, keeping your composure. You took a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, pad of your thumb swiping the corner of your eye to catch a stray tear. “Just… Just don’t lie to me.” 

Carmen pressed his hands together, trying hard to remember his breathing while his mind was racing. Sugar was right, it was uncomfortable, worse than he could have imagined. 

“You’re right,” Carmen admitted with a nod. There was no point in lying, not to you, you always knew better, knew him better. “I-I did, but not-not like that. Not,” Carmen’s breath hitched, chest tight with a wave of anxiety. 

“You know wh-when I was at the restaurant, and I… I would be ready to rip my fuckin’ hair out. Everything was just goin’ to shit, o-or we’d realize there was a critic on the books, or I’d forgot to order some shit, I’d be going fuckin’ crazy, ya know?” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in tumbles of jumbled truth.

 “I’d go to my office for a second, just to-just to take a fuckin’ breath, and… and I’d check my phone and I’d see a text from you.” His heart swelled at the memory. You’d text him updates through the day, knowing he’d seen him when he could. Baby Teddy in her crib, Anchovy in the bassinet, her outfit for the day, nap time- all the moments he missed at work because you wanted him to see. You had considered him. Carmen missed it more than words could describe the past days, checking his phone out of habit, hoping to see a little OOTD with a smiley face and a wrinkly baby Teddy attached- instead, he saw nothing. 

“I’d just… I don’t know. I was sittin’ there, just fuckin’ stressed o-or angry, and then I’d see that and I-I’d feel,” Carmen paused. Gather your thoughts, gather your thoughts. 

“I felt… I just felt weird about it?” Carmen’s brows pinched together, looking at you for help, unsure. Your face fell, his heart lurching with fear. 

“No, no, no, no. Not-Not like that. I- fuck, that’s not what- I love the pictures. Love them. I-I- They’re the only things that get me through the day, it-it’s not that-” Carmen stuttered out, head dropping into his hands in defeat. Way to go, Berzatto. 

“Felt weird?” You repeated, calm, your way of soothing him. Keeping your voice even, steady without any tones he could read into and spiral. It was second nature at this point. “Weird how?” 

“It made me feel like… like I was, I was missin’ out.” Carmen admitted, eyes shining bright and a little wide like they always did when he’d finally admit something. Wide eyed, scared, almost, like he shouldn’t have told the truth. 

“I felt like, I’m at work, an-and you were at home with Teddy, and…and I felt like I was bein’ a shitty dad. Like I was there too much, an-and I’d miss out on her, and then I’d miss you, I’d just…” Carmen threw his hands out lightly, cheeks puffing with a slow, shaky exhale. 

“I was jealous, maybe? Ma-Maybe that’s the word, but I just… I didn’t want to be there, and I know,” He lifted his voice before you could begin to speak. “I know I’m th-the boss, and-and I get that. And it’s not- it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault you’re home- I’m glad you’re home, I am, because you’re doin’ so much. You are, an-and I know that, I know. You’re-You’re doin’ the most important job in the fuckin’ world, I mean, you’re keepin’ ou-our baby alive.” 

Carmen laughed humorlessly, a scoff that turned into a sniffle, shaking his head. You sat quietly, listening to his words, taking them in with a slow nod. Carmen looked at you, trying to read you, taking in your expressions. Your shoulders less tense, tired, face neutral but he saw the way your lips twitched, holding back a cry. 

“Just sometimes when-when I’d be in the shit, I’d just want to be home.” Carmen admitted. “I’d want to be home, but… but I knew I couldn’t be. I knew I had to-to take care of things, take care of you an-and Teddy, and I don’t- fuck, I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I like doing it, I mean obviously I fuckin’ do, it’s just- it-it’s a lot sometimes and I get-” 

“-Carm,” You cut off his ramblings, reaching across the table, your hand sliding over the top of his, squeezing it gently. 

Carmen thought his lungs might have given out, his heart too, looking down at your hand in awe. Bolts of electricity shot through his body, tingling at his skin that touched yours with excitement. He’d missed this, missed your touch, missed you. It felt surreal, sitting here, feeling you, seeing you. 

“I’m sorry.” Carmen whispered, turning his hand to hold yours. Hands clammy, fingernails bitten to the quick. His fingers intertwined in yours, holding your hand so tightly your fingers tingles. He held your hand like he was scared to let go, like if he did he might never get to hold your hand again. 

“I’m sorry. It-It wasn’t fair. It..It’s not fair.” Carmen squeezed your hand, shaking his head lightly. “You didn’t… I don’t know how to say how much you mean to me.” Carmen looked at you, eyes glassy, red rimmed with tears that gathered at his water line. 

“I, uh, I-I tried to- Well, Richie’s thera- my therapist told me to, uh, to try an-and write out what I wanted to say to you. Take time and reflect and give it to you, but I, uh, I was up all night because I kept starting over.” Carmen rambled on. 

“Everything I was tryna write it just… it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t do you justice.” Carmen looked up at you, thumb brushing over your knuckle gently. “I felt like it just wasn’t enough. They’re aren’t any words to describe you. To…To describe what you mean to me, an-and how much I love you.” 

You swallowed back a sob, looking into his eyes. An intensity you hadn’t seen since he said his vows, maybe more now. “I-I love you so much, and… and I don’t deserve you. I don’t fucking deserve you.” Carmen choked out, a sob slipping out between his confessions. 

“I-I’m a fuckin’ loser, an-and a psycho, and I-I’m a shitty dad and husband…And I-I’m fucked up, and you-you chose to love me anyways. An-And to marry me, and have a kid with me- start a family with me. And what do I do? I fuck it up, and I don’t deserve you. I never have, an-and I never will.” Carmen rambled, tears sliding down his cheeks freely, leaning towards you, shoulders stuttering with a choking of tears.

“Don’t say that.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “Don’t say that-” 

“-No, it’s true, it’s fuckin’ true-” 

“-No, it isn’t. Carmen, don’t say that.” You reach your free hand out, cupping his cheek across the table, thumb swiping over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You held him, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he turned into your touch, breath slowing. 

“You’re not a loser. You’re not a psycho. You’re not a bad dad, or-or a bad husband either.” You leaned forwards, closing in the gap between the two of you, the edge of the table digging into your stomach. “You made a mistake-” 

“-No, that’s-that’s- it’s worse than that. It’s so much fuckin’ worse than that. Don’t-” 

“-You made a mistake.” You said, firmer this time, cradling his cheek in your hand. 

Carmen took a breath, squeezing your hand in his, sniffing deep to keep his tears in. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like my parents.” He whispered, eyes rounding in a scared way. “I-I don’t want to fuck up you o-or Teddy or… I just don’t wanna end up like them. I wanna be different.” 

“You’re not gonna end up like them.” You shook your head softly. 

“No, I-I was actin’ just like them.” Carmen muttered. “Yellin’ at you a-and actin’ like a complete fuckin’ lunatic. Just like them, an-and I don’t wanna live like that.” 

“You won’t.” You reassured him gently, whispering across the table. He shook his head in protest. “Carm, listen to me. You’re… You’re not like them, ok?” 

You could feel Carmen start to shake, a trembling through his system that was a tell-tale sign of a panic attack. Your eyes scanned over the restaurant, filling up with the mid-afternoon rush. “Come on,” You nodded towards the door, pushing your chair back, hand still in his. “Let’s get some air.” 

Carmen didn’t argue, he wouldn’t- couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your hand in his, squeezing his gently, pulling him towards the car. Carmen pulled the keys out with shaky hands, unlocking the door. He reached for the passenger door, but you pulled the back door open instead, surprising him when you slipped in the backseat, nodding at him to follow you. You squeezed into the middle, Teddy’s car seat pressed to your back, Carmen pressed into your side, shutting the door.

“You’re not like them.” You broke the silence, turning yourself towards him. “You’re not.” 

Carmen leaned his head back against the seat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “You-You don’t have to do this, say that.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it.” 

“Carmen, you’re not like your parents.” You reached for his hand again. “The fact that you’re scared to be like them, scared and trying to stop it, that shows me you’re not like them.” 

Carmen’s chest stuttered, a hissing of a cry leaving his lungs. “You made a mistake.” You swallowed, your own heart aching. “But… But that doesn’t mean you’re as a whole a bad person. It just means you made a mistake, and if you learn from it and become better, then it’s ok. It’s a lesson learned.” 

Carmen nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tight like he was trying to keep everything in. “I just…I really fucking miss you.” Carmen admitted through a wobbly voice, eyes still closed. “I-I really miss you, and… and I want you to come home.” 

You shook your head, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I miss you too.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much.” 

Carmen turned, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you tightly into him. His nose pressed into the top of your head, breathing in detergent that didn’t smell like what you used at home, shampoo, too. You held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing him further and further into you until it felt like your bodies were meshing together, fusing into one. 

Whispered apologies shared through teary, wet sniffles filled the space. Carmen’s nose rubbing against yours, hesitating before he kissed you. You pulled him into you, finally soothing the aching longing that had built in your chest, your lips catching his, the two of you staying unmoving, wanting to feel the other. Clinging to each other, hands grabbing, lips parting, Carmen pressing you against the car seat, hand cradled on the back of your head. 

“I-I understand if you still don’t wanna come home.” Carmen muttered, breath hot over your cheek, nose rubbing against your skin. “But I really fuckin’ miss you.” 

“I miss you too.” You muttered, lips buzzing against his neck, tears hot and trickling onto the collar of his t-shirt. “I-I want to come home.” 

“A-Are you sure?” Carmen’s eyes lit up with hope, though he tried to hide it, the way he always did; too scared to let him get too excited, too hopeful because he always feared it would end. 

“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding gently, balling the back of his shirt between your fingers. 

“Yeah?” Carmen repeated, lips pressing together to keep his cry in, a different one this time. One of relief. For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, like his lungs weren’t constricting and on the brink of collapse. His mind didn’t race and cloud with delirious confusion. No, here and now, holding you, Carmen had clarity. 

The both of you stayed in the back of the car, holding the other, chest to chest until your heartbeat became the same, steady rhythm, matching the others. 

Carmen held your hand on the drive back, pressing wet kisses to your knuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of any tears. “Can’t let Pete see me cryin’ again.” He muttered. “That was a new fuckin’ low.” You had giggled softly, enough to have his heart fluttering. He’d never admit it out loud, not now, anyways, that he was thankful for Pete. How he’d taken care of you, of Teddy, of Anchovy. He’d stuck up for you, even if it was against Carmen, and that meant the world to Carmen. 

Pulling into Sugar and Pete’s house, Carmen shoved the gear shift into park, his hand still in yours, both of you sitting in each other's company for a minute longer. Just a little bit longer the two of you, before you had to face the others. 

“Oh, uh, one more thing.” Carmen’s thumb ran over your knuckles before he let go of your hand for a moment, raising up in the seat to dig into the front pocket of his jeans. 

“I, uh, I brought your rings back.” Carmen’s voice dropped, a shake in his words that matched the shake in his hands, pinching your wedding band and ring in between his fingers. 

You swallowed at the sight, Carmen holding the ring between his fingers, it took you back to years before when he’d proposed. Nearly as nervous as he was now, just as shaky, but for a different reason. 

“You don’t have to put them on or anything. I don’t- I’m not tryna make you do that, it’s your choice, obviously. I just,” Carmen took a breath, looking at you. “I thought you might want them back.” 

You paused for a moment, looking at the rings, the sting of the last time you saw them still burning and aching in your chest, but this time, it wasn’t as crushing. It was more of a dull ache, a tiredness that came with it instead of devastation. 

Reaching out, your fingertips tickled his palms, gathering the two rings in your hand. You looked at them, turning them over in your hands. “Thank you,” You mumbled, looking up at Carmen. He swallowed, giving a nod, trying to mask the hurt that you hadn’t put them back on- you didn’t miss it. 

“Do-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Will you put them back on?” You blinked at him, wide eyed, asking so sweet, Carmen thought his heart might give out entirely. 

You held the rings out towards him. “Will you put them back on for me? Please?” 

Carmen didn’t deserve you. The notion rang loud over and over in his head again, throat burning, welling up with tears. He didn’t deserve you. You were too good, too fuckin’ good for him. 

His hands trembled, holding yours and slipping the rings back onto your ring finger, back to their rightful place. Carmen twisted them, a deep breath of a sob that was threatening to break filling the space. His fingers intertwined with yours, free hand cupping your jaw, pulling you into a kiss over the console. 

Sugar looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. “What’re they doin’ out there?” Pete whispered behind her, like the two of you might hear them. “Do they look happy? Sad? You don’t think it went bad, do you? I mean, Carmen can be-” 

“-Pete,” Sugar snapped with a soft huff. “Look for yourself.” She moved, biting back a small grin. 

Pete slid in her place, pushing the blinds apart, sneakily looking out the side of them. He could see the two of you in the car, Carmen’s hands on the back of your head, holding you while you leaned across the console in a deep, passionate kiss. 

“Well, lookie there.” Pete grinned, letting the blinds fall. “I guess there was a happy ending after all.” 

Sugar rolled her eyes, lips twitching in a small smile. “He still has a lot to make up for. I hope she didn’t let him off the hook too easily.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I am glad they made up. I would kill Carmen if he fucked things up with my favorite sister-in-law.” 

Pete let out a small laugh, looking out the window again. “The kids are gonna miss Teddy and Anchovy when they go back. MJ’s gonna be devastated they’re taking them.” Pete muttered, Sugar nodded. 

Pete paused for a moment, looking behind him with a soft frown. “Y’know, this is gonna sound crazy, Nat, but I’ll be kinda glad when Anchovy is gone.” Pete admitted in a hushed tone, like Anchovy might hear him. 

Sugar snorted lightly. “Yeah. Except MJ and Maggie will be begging for a cat of their own. They’ve already started and I told them-” 

“-No, I mean,” Pete turned, watching the orange cat slink around at the top of the stairs, Anchovy glaring down at Pete before disappearing to the guest room. “I don’t think that cat likes me.”

[thebearer]

in your eyes, the man that i could be |carmen berzatto x reader| part two

prompt: after carmen finds out you're staying at pete and sugar's house, he goes to try and talk to you. he's faced with his furious sister and harsh truths instead.

or part two of the devastation fic lol that is based off this ask from the other day <3

contains: angst! angst! this one is very much so more carmen focused bc let's be real... he's the problem in this one lol. still hurt with no comfort but more this one than last one?? mentions to past trauma, family trauma. sugar clears carmen in this one. slight mean carmen still, slight angry carmen still. language. dad!carmen x mom!reader. no resolution but the make up is in the next and final part! still heavy so read at your own discretion! word count- 4.8k+

Fak twisted his hands, nervously watching Carmen pace back and forth furiously. One hand running through his hair, tangled and matted from the continued motion; the other lifting and pulling the cigarette to and from his lips. Fak wasn’t sure how Carmen wasn’t sick yet. He’d never seen him smoke so much, seen anyone smoke so much. 

“Neil, I’m not fuckin’ playin’ anymore, ok? You’re startin’ to really, really fuckin’ piss me off.” Carmen’s jaw ground tight, voice starting to growl with that gravelly warning shake that had Fak flinching. “You better tell me where you put my fuckin’ car keys, alright? I-I’m not sitting here, ok? I’m not gonna sit around wi-with my fuckin’ thumb up my ass like a jagoff while my wife and kid are a-at fuckin’ Sugar and Pete’s!” 

“Carmy,” Fak tried to keep his voice calm and firm, like Sugar and Richie had coached him to, hyping him up before he entered the house. “I can’t give you your keys right now, becaus-” 

“-Oh, fuck you! Fuck you! Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?” Carmen roared, teeth bared and eyes narrowed. 

Fak didn’t think he’d ever say it, but he missed the sad Carmen from before. When he’d been sent to check on Carmen and Richie, to find out where the hell they were before Sydney had a meltdown in the kitchen, only to find a nearly hyperventilating Carmen and an unsure and frantic Richie trying to calm him. Fak had known Carmen a long time, his whole life, really, and never once had he seen him so… so sad. 

That sadness was long gone now. In its wake, an anger, worse than before, than he’d ever seen or could have imagined. Fak had just tried to comfort Carmen, offer up some encouragement that you and Teddy and Anchovy were all ok, taken care of- at Pete and Sugar’s. He didn’t realize how that would flip the switch, how it would infuriate Carmen. 

“I-I’m Fak.” Fak blinked, nervously. “You know me. I’m your friend, Carm, and I-I’m just trying to help you-” 

“-You’re trying to help me? You’re trying to fuckin’ help me by keepin’ me away from my wife?” Carmen’s voice boomed, shaking the walls of the house. 

Even in his loud rage, the house seemed too quiet, too still. There was no baby TV show on, no hum of the diffusers, or Anchovy’s small purrs and chirps. Carmen missed him, missed him jumping on the counters just to piss him off. He missed you defending him, missed how Anchovy would startle and run anytime Teddy would gurgle or whine. 

God, he missed Teddy. He spent the first night in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair, staring blankly ahead, wishing he had the small screaming bundle to rock to sleep. 

Carmen couldn’t bring himself to go into the bedroom. Not again. Not after he found your ring laying there. He’d scared Richie so badly with his cries that Richie had enforced the ‘Mikey Prevention Plan’, his twisted humor of a way at keeping Carmen from being alone, from hurting himself in his misery. 

“Carm, I-I can’t.” Fak stuttered, looking at the door, begging Richie or anyone, really, to walk through the door. “You know I can’t.” 

“This is fucked up, Neil. You know that? You know how fucked up this is? Keepin’ me from-from Teddy? From my kid?” Carmen took a long drag of the cigarette, smoke blowing out of his nose with his panicked breathing. His hands still shook, everything was still shaky and rattling with uneasiness inside him. 

“Carm, I- Don’t say that.” Fak shook his head, he could feel himself caving. Carmen could too. 

“You’re keepin’ me from her, Fak. You know that? You know you-you’re keepin’ me from my daughter? My baby? Don’t you-you know how fucked up that is?” Carmen shook his head, lips pursing in disgust. “You’re lettin’ Richie boss you around like he always does, an-and you know, you know deep down that this is wrong. Keepin’ me from them is wrong.” 

Fak hesitated, a nervous sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. “Richie said-” 

“-Richie can get fucked. Ric-Richie doesn’t know shit! He doesn’t know shit, you know he doesn’t know shit, a-and you’re lettin’ him tell you what to do? Richie?” Carmen scoffed, throwing his hands out. “The fuck does Richie know, huh? H-He’s divorced, an-an-and barely sees his kid-” 

“-Hey!-” Fak’s eyes widened in shock. “Carmen, you don’t-” 

“-Is that what you want? You want me to end up alone?” Carmen’s eyes are wild, crazed, but he goes still. “Y-You want me to end up like-like Richie? Li-Li-Like that?” 

Fak swallows, both standing in the thick, tension filled silence. “Carmen, I-I can’t.” Fak shook his head slowly. “I don’t… I think you need to, I don’t know, I think you need to calm down before you go see them.” 

“Calm down, you’re tellin’ me to calm down.” Carmen snarled, bitterly scoffing at Fak. “Fuck you. Alright? Fuck you. I will never forgive you for this shit. You hear me? You-You doin’ this to me, keepin’ me from my family. I’ll never fuckin’ forgive you.” 

Fak flinched, Carmen’s words cutting brutally through him with a bitter sting. Carmen stormed off, the front door slamming with a force that sent vibrations through the house. Fak was surprised it didn’t split the wood in two. Walking towards the front window, he saw Carmen storming off, furiously lighting another cigarette, running a hand through his hair, again. Fak assumed he was out of Spirits, that he’d smoked through another pack, walking to the corner store to get more. After thirty minutes, he called Richie, frantic that he’d let Carmen loose. 

“What part of Mikey Prevention Plan don’t you fuckin’ understand?” Richie sneered over the phone, trying to keep his voice low so the new hires didn’t hear. As far as they were concerned, Carmen was on a vacation, only the OGs knew the truth. 

“I-I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Fak’s voice lilted high, a shrill of nerves that had Richie’s eyes pinching in annoyance. “I thought he was going to the corner store to get more cigarettes, an-and then he didn’t come back for a while-” 

“-What’s a while?” Richie muttered, catching Tina’s eye through the glass. She set her rag down quickly, walking towards him. 

“I dunno… Fifteen, thirty minutes?” Fak mumbled. “Maybe closer to an hour now. B-But then I went to look for him, and he wasn’t there, so I asked the guy working and he said he hadn’t seen him, and-and now I’m driving around trying to find him. I-I’m shouting his name out the window and everything!” 

“He’s not a dog, Neil, he won’t-” Richie huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know where he’s at.” 

“You do?” Fak perked up. 

“Yeah, I mean, no, but I-I’m pretty sure I know where he’s at since you fuckin’ told him where they were stayin’.” Richie rolled his eyes bitterly. “Just- Come over here and get me, alright? Let me call Pete- God, you and this fuckin’ kid, got me callin’ Pete. You’re killin’ me Neil Jeff.” 

Richie hung up the phone with a huff, looking up at Tina. “What’s goin’ on? Jeff alright? What’s he doin’?” She pressed. 

“Yeah, Fak-Fak fuckin’ lost him.” Richie rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “But, I think I know where he’s at. Have a pretty good idea, anyways.” 

Tina eyed Richie carefully. “Richie, you know I love that kid, you know I do. But if he’s fuckin’ with Mama,” Tina shook her head, lips pursing in fury. It was no secret how taken she was to you, even before the affectionate nickname that came with the pregnancy. 

“He’s not,” Richie shook his head. “He’s stupid, hot headed, a fuckin’ baby- all that. But… C’mon, T, you and I both know he loves her. He wouldn’t do anything to them. Do somethin’ to himself before that.” 

Tina paused but nodded, face softening. “So, you know where he’s at then? You don’t… You don’t think he’s gonna…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, looking at the picture of Mikey with Richie, Tina, Ebra, and Marcus only a few months before he passed. Carmen had placed it at the front, a reminder of the legacy that was there before him, of The Beef and his brother. 

“No, I hope not.” Richie muttered, looking at his phone’s screen with dread, Pete’s contact on the screen gleaming back at him nearly mockingly. “I think I know where he is.” He sighed, pressing the button. 

Pete could feel his phone buzzing in his pants, ignoring it as he held the front door in a white knuckled grip. He hadn’t expected to see Carmen there, on his Ring camera, knocking on the door softly, softer than he expected given his manic looking state. 

“H-Hey, Carm,” Pete closed the door as casually as he could, only leaving a sliver open. “What, uh, what’s up, man?” 

“Hey, Pete,” Carmen could barely meet his gaze, suddenly overly aware of how disheveled he must have looked. 

“Uh, what-what brings you by?” Pete stuttered, heart picking up when he heard the soft thump behind him, Anchovy lurking behind his legs curiously. He gripped the door, shuffling his legs together, trying to close it on his frame so Anchovy wouldn’t slip by. 

“C’mon,” Carmen sighed, a tired look in his eye, too exhausted to even be pleading. “You know why I’m here, alright. I-I know they’re here.” 

“W-Who is? Sugar? Yeah, she-she’s off today.” Pete stiffened at the claim, swallowing nervously, trying to play it cool. Anchovy meowed loudly behind him, cringing when he was  given away by the cat. 

“Pete, don’t-” Carmen pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in slowly, trying to calm the tears that threatened to fall. He could hear Anchovy, hear the sounds of the house- the home. Soft child shows, the hum of the dryer, all the things that made the house feel alive. Carmen would give anything to have his home sound like that again, the silence was beginning to drive him crazy. 

“Where is she?” Carmen looks up, his gaze much harder than before, a frantic look beginning to take over his sadness. 

“I, uh, I-I don’t-” Pete stutters, fingers tapping on the wood of the door anxiously. 

“-Pete, I really don’t want you to fuck with me right now, alright?” Carmen takes a deep breath, trying to swallow back his emotions that were already beginning to climb in his throat again. “I need to- I-I need to see her, Pete.” Carmen couldn’t bring himself to say your name, sure even the first syllable would have him in tears, breaking down on the front porch. 

Another meow, louder than before, came before Pete could answer. The soft scratching of Anchovy’s paws on the door, a demanding meow that Carmen knew all too well. He’d learned to drown it out, or try to. It became nearly a soundtrack to your sex life when you’d first gotten the cat, locking him out of the room so you two could fuck, only for him to yowl and scratch and demand to be let in. Carmen could remember how you’d giggle, pouting at him exaggeratedly to let him in. His heart fell with an ache that was warm yet still made him feel sick. 

Pete looked down at the cat, then back at Carmen, a hesitant grimace on his face. “Carm… You-You know I would,” He started. Carmen’s heart soared with hope, eyes wide, a near adrenaline rush of excitement shooting through his system. “But…You know I can’t.” 

Carmen’s heart crashed, shattered with the hope he’d finally begun to find, to feel again. “What the fuc- Pete, that’s… Pete, c’mon. C’mon. Yo-You gotta let me in. Let me in.” Anger surged through Carmen’s chest. He closed his eyes tight and tried to swallow it down. All he’d been is angry. For weeks now, it had been a never ending cycle of anger and sickness and distraught, all amplified to new heights the second you left. 

Carmen could feel himself spiraling, ears starting to ring again, rushing and roaring flashbacks flooding into his mind. Your face when you left, Teddy’s cries, the critic’s pursed lips, Sydney’s disappointed face when he forgot something again, Tina’s eyes cutting. Carmen turned, shaking his hand lightly, trying to do a breathing exercise he saw on YouTube, years ago when he’d moved to New York. 

His breaths were deep, shaky, but deep enough that it cleared his head, dulled the ringing. His mind wandered back, Richie’s voice ringing in his head. “You wanna get her back? Quit actin’ like a goddam baby. Quit actin’ like this isn’t your own fuckin’ fault. Like you didn’t do this shit to yourself, Cousin. Take some fuckin’ accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin’ shit together, alright? And maybe-maybe you’ll get your family back.” Richie’s voice rang clear through his mind from a few nights ago, when Carmen was especially mean and awful. 

“Hey, uh, you alright?” Pete hesitated, leaning towards Carmen, his grip on the door loosening. 

Carmen took a deep breath, running a hand over his face before he turned back towards Pete, eyes shining with tears that threatened to fall. “Pete, please? Please?” Carmen begged, voice soft, cracking at the end. “Please, jus-just let me see her? L-Let me talk to her? Just- Let me tell her tha-that I’m sorry. Please… I need to tell her I-I’m sorry. Don’t-” 

“-Carmen?” Sugar gaped, her voice coming from behind Pete. She pulled the door open, shocked gaze dropping into furious, jaw setting in a near snarl. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She hissed. 

“Why do you think I’m here, Natalie? Huh?” Carmen snapped in anger, rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

“Oh, you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here.” Natalie snapped back, pulling the door open and stepping out on the porch. She stood in front of her younger brother, arms crossed in a standoff. 

“Pete, go inside.” Sugar sneered, her gaze not moving from Carmen’s. She felt like they were children again, having a staring contest to see who got the last piece of gum from Donna’s purse, only this time, it was for worse. 

“Nat, I-” 

“-I got it.” Natalie said firmly. Pete didn’t argue with her, simply nodding, shutting the door softly behind them. Her eyes held Carmen’s gaze, both of them intense, furious at the other for other reasons. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself-” 

“-I am-” 

“-Mortified.” Sugar sneered, giving him a disgusted shake of her head. Carmen shifted, biting his own tongue to keep it from lashing out at her. “Do you know what I came home to the other night? You want me to tell you?-” 

“-No, I know-” 

“-No, I’m going to tell you.” Natalie snapped. “I came home after a very long shift because our head chef decided to, oh, I don’t know- disappear and go on a psychotic rampage apparently.” Natalie scoffed sarcastically. 

“And I walk through the door, ready for bed. Maybe a glass of wine, maybe a bath, maybe to finally catch up on my shows with my husband; and you know what I found instead?” Sugar took a step towards Carmen, intimidating him with her harsh glare. “I find my husband taking care of your baby because your wife is sobbing-” 

“-Don’t-” 

“-No, no. I mean, sobbing. A total broken mess on my kitchen table, because she said you,” Sugar jabbed a finger at Carmen. “Decided to come home and scream at her. Not only scream, but say some of the most volatile, disgusting things I’ve ever fucking heard in my life to your wife, the mother of your very much so still a newborn baby.” 

Carmen felt the familiar wave of nausea wash over him, swallowing back spit that pooled in his mouth with a cry that threatened to fall from his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, to look at her gaze anymore. It felt too judgemental, left him feeling too vulnerable and sick of himself under it. 

“So let me ask first; What the fuck is the matter with you?” Natalie sneered. 

“I don’t know.” Carmen’s voice was tight, jaw tighter, fighting a tremble that was threatening to break. “I-I don’t… I don’t fuckin’ know. I-I didn’t- I didn’t mean it-” A single tear fell, slipping out of the corner of his eyes, sliding down his cheek- the final crack in his demeanor. 

Carmen tried to fight it, deep breaths that burned his lungs and nose to control the tears, keep him from breaking here on his sister’s porch, but they wouldn’t stop. Carmen wasn’t sure how he had any tears left, after crying for days on end, how he hadn’t shriveled up his tear ducts. Yet here he was, broken sobs slipping out again. 

Sugar didn’t move. Arms still crossed over her chest, lips still fixed in a hard line, watching Carmen with intensity as he broke down, tears flowing in front of her. She didn’t comfort him, not that he expected her to. She didn’t try to give him words of encouragement, advice on how to right the wrongs like the others did. Instead, she kept a furious gaze on him, unmoved by the tears. 

“Please,” Carmen sniffed hard, running the back of his hand over his nose. “Please, Sugar, please. Ju-Just let me see Teddy. Let me se-ee her. Don’t-Don’t do this to me. Don’t ke-ep my kid away from me-” 

“-Me?” Sugar scoffed, pushing her hand into her chest. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Don’t you even start that shit, Carm. I’m not keeping your kid away from you, let’s make that clear.” 

Carmen’s breath hitched when she stepped towards him, toe to toe with him, teeth bared in a grit of anger. “I didn’t take your kid away. You know who did? Hm? You.” Natalie snapped, Carmen flinched at the cruelty of her words. “You did this, Carmen. You did every last bit of this. This is on you. No one else but you.” 

Carmen held in a cry that threatened to break out, face crumbling with tears. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to soothe the burn and hide his distraught. “And you know something else? I know you don’t remember dad very well, but I do, ok? And lately, you’ve been acting just like him.” Sugar’s tone clipped, leaving a burning sting in Carmen’s chest at her words. 

“Yelling just because shit didn’t go your way? Do you know part of the reason mom’s so fucked up? Why everyone takes her side all the time and babies her? Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Lee? It’s because dad used to berate her, scream at her so badly- say some of the worst shit in the world because he was stressed out, that those guys would feel bad for her.” Sugar ranted. “And I promise you- promise you if I told Uncle Jimmy right now what you said, how I found your wife, he’d agree with me. Maybe even worse.” 

Carmen shifted, his heart squeezing in fear now. Jimmy loved you, always had. He held a special soft spot in his heart for you. Worse was probably right, and truthfully, Carmen would accept it- he deserved it. It wouldn’t be as bad as how he felt right now. 

Natalie held Carmen’s gaze, letting her words sink in. She lifted his hand when he started to talk. “I don’t-I really don’t want to hear it, ok?” Natalie shook her head. “And before you start trying to come up with some excuse-” 

“-I-I’m not-” 

“- I want you to know something. To hear it and really listen to it.” Natalie paused, waiting until his eyes met hers to continue. “I know you’ve been through a lot- We’ve been through a lot. But that doesn’t mean you get to just treat people like shit. That you can act like this and it’s ok.” 

“I know that.” Carmen’s jaw was tight, strangled words croaking out. 

“Then act like it.” Natalie snapped. “It’s not easy, none of this is easy, Carm. I mean… Do you know that every day- every single day, I wake up and something happens that’s shitty or rough, and I think about how easy it would be just to grab a bottle of wine or two. Drink myself unconscious like mom does. Just how easy that would be, how nice it would be just to drown myself out instead of face the issues.” 

“There’s days when MJ or Maggie or-or Pete just drive me fuckin’ nuts, and I want to pull my hair out, or scream, or Pete will do something that just pushes me right over the edge and I just want to rage.” Natalie continued, arms waving dramatically. “I want to throw in the towel, take the easy way out, rage, drink myself silly, scream at all of them until I feel better, but you know what? You know what I don’t do? I don’t do that.” 

Natalie crossed her arms, taking a breath to steady herself. “I don’t do that to them because I know how that feels.” Her voice cracked, just barely, enough to show the emotion that was hiding underneath. “I know how that felt. I know how that made me feel.” 

Carmen could feel his eyes brimming with tears again, too emotional to be embarrassed. Donna’s many red faced, slurred screaming tyrades came back to his mind. How he’d hide, try and stay quiet and invisible to avoid them. Even as he got older. 

“I know how that fucked me up. How it fucked them up. How it fucked you up, an-and Mikey up. I mean- how it…it fucked our whole life up!” Sugar laughed humorlessly, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “I just… When I think about that, and about how it just ruined all of us. That’s the last thing, the very last thing, I’d ever want to do to my kids, to Pete, t-to anyone, really.” 

Carmen nodded, too overwhelmed with emotions to speak. His throat burned, scratchy and sore from screaming and crying. His chest was tight, constricting his lungs, stealing his breath. He was on the verge of an anxiety attack, maybe something worse, yet, he felt eerily calm in the moment. Still even under the shame and hurt her words brought. He sat on the porch, sure his knees would give out soon, head spinning and dizzy with this damning realization. 

 “You need to make up your mind. Make a decision, right here, right now.” Sugar continued behind him. Though he couldn’t see her, he knew her face was stoic to hide the hurt, hide the emotions. A classic Berzatto deflection trait. “You need to decide what you’re going to do to be better for your family. If you’re going to continue to be a selfish, piece of shit, or if you’re going to change; be better.” 

Carmen’s shoulders shuddered with his next breath, deep but not intentional; like he didn’t even know he did it. Too dazed and deep in thought, staring blankly ahead. “I can tell you,” Sugar stepped towards the door. “It’s not comfortable. It’s not easy. It is so hard some days. You have to fight for it every day, fight to break shit that was drilled into you, fight to recognize that some things you do, you don’t even mean to. It takes a lot of work, but… I’d rather fight every single day to be better, to be kinder and softer and more understanding for my family, than to not have them at all.” 

Carmen couldn’t stop thinking of you. How you were so naturally nurturing and sweet. You’d always been like that. You were loving and gentle freely. You’d always been so patient with him. It almost made him feel insecure, inferior, when he thought of it before, but now, he just wanted to return the favor. 

“You decide what you want to do, and then maybe- maybe you’ll get to see them again.” Sugar turned the door knob, pushing it open. “But today? Not a chance. Go get yourself together before you try and do this again.” Carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, harder than he thought it would. Still, he didn’t move from his spot on the porch, head in his hands, deep in thought about his future, his past, everything. 

“There he is!” Fak’s voice was muffled through the car window, slowly pulling to a stop in Sugar and Pete’s driveway. 

Carmen looked up slowly, taking a slow, grounding exhale in, just as Richie and Fak climbed out of the car. “Cousin, thank fuckin’- You better be glad he’s here.” Richie glared at Fak. 

“I am!” Fak chirped defensively. 

Carmen stood slowly, turning one last time to look at the front door. He couldn’t see through the small privacy glass on the door, but he swore he could hear you- hear your voice. Soft and hushed, a little cautious mixing with Sugar’s reassuring one. It took everything in him not to turn and bust the door down, run inside and throw himself at your feet, begging for forgiveness. 

He knew that time would come. 

Instead, he walked to the car, sliding in the backseat, ignoring the confused looks Richie and Fak gave each other. “So, uh, did you-” 

“-Don’t ask that.” Richie cut off Fak with a bark of annoyance. “What’s the matter with you?” 

“Nothing! I just- I thought we all wanted to know-” 

“-Hey, Cousin,” Carmen muttered, staring blankly at the house. Richie hummed, turning to Carmen carefully. “What’s, uh… You-You said you had someone for me to talk to?” 

“Yeah,” Richie nodded slowly. “The therapist?” 

Carmen paused, swallowing slowly. “You…You think she’d see me now?” 

“Right now?” Richie lifted a brow. Carmen nodded slowly, still looking past him, eyes glued on the house. He swore he could see a figure move- your figure, peeking through the blinds before ducking back into the shadows. “Yeah, I’m sure she will. I can… I can call her. See what I can do.” 

“Thanks.” Carmen twisted his wedding band gently, the car jolting gently as Fak started to back out. 

Fak turned around, looking from the back window to Carmen with a hesitant grimace. “You ok?” He asked, his voice dropped to a low hush with Richie on the phone beside him. 

“No,” Carmen admitted, shoulders slumping in defeat. “No, I-I’m not, but… I wanna be.” Carmen looked at Fak, eyes glassy with emotion. “I gotta get my shit together. Gotta do better f-for my family.” 

Fak nodded slowly, pulling out onto the road, slowly shifting the gears back into place. The car began to roll, Carmen watching Sugar and Pete’s house disappear in the rearview. His heart tore, ripped right down the middle and split at the seams knowing he was leaving you, Teddy- his family behind. It took everything, every ounce of strength not to turn around, not to run back. It hurt, but he realized, this is what Sugar was talking about. 

So, Carmen went to the other side of town, to the small building where Richie’s therapist was. His counselor he’d started seeing a while back, when he was on his purpose journey. 

It was weird, weirder than Al-Anon. Carmen felt entirely too vulnerable sitting in that chair, having her stare at him and only him, nodding as he told his ‘story’- it felt weird to call it that. He didn’t want it to be his story, his defining qualities. No, Carmen wanted a new story, a better one with you and Teddy and his family. He’d told Dr. Mullins that. 

“I think that’s a great start, Carmen.” She nodded, giving him a soft smile. “So, tell me how you’d do that.” 

Carmen scoffed lightly, looking down at his hands. “I, uh, I don’t really know.” He admitted. “Kinda thought that’s what you were for.” 

“You’re right. I’m here to help you reach that goal, maintain it.” She nodded. “But in order to do that, I need to know a little more.” 

“Like what?” Carmen muttered. “I don’t really remember my dad and all the bad shi-stuff he’d do.” 

“You said you didn’t want that to define you, so let’s not talk about that.” She shook her head softly. “Let’s focus on what you want. What kind of life you’d want to live with your family.” 

Carmen’s knee bounced, taking a shaky breath. “I… I don’t want to lose control.” He admitted. “I don’t want t-to scream, and say shit I don’t mean, and-and to take it out on people who don’t deserve it.” He looked up at her. “I don’t want to do that again.” 

“Good.” Dr. Mullins nodded slowly. “Let’s start there.” 

[thebearer]

arguing with carmen and its big enough where you leave for the night but what’s even scarier to him is that you also took teddy

he'd have an actual psychotic break, nervous breakdown.

especially bc i'm picturing him reverting back to his old ways. it's rare, but he slips into a full carmy (in the lock in) level meltdown. gets unbalanced and spirals further and further, and you just happen to be who he takes it out on.

screaming at you like a maniac over something stupid- you didn't wash his spare whites (he didn't tell you they needed to be washed). it's his fault, he knows it deep down, still he's losing his shit because it's the final straw.

"you stay at home all day! all fucking day and you can't do one thing!" carmen's red faced, screaming.

you're shocked, scared, on the brink of sobbing yourself. teddy's woke up from her nap, his screaming startled her. the newborn wailing from her nursery.

"carmen, you didn't tell me-"

"-i shouldn't have to!" carmen roars. "you're home all day-"

"-i'm on maternity leave. i just had a baby-"

"-oh, so. you can't do one fuckin' thing now? i have to do it all here too?" carmen is spiraling, pacing, running a hand down his face. "i get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then i come home so i can go back and work my ass off some more, and you can't help me out?"

his words sting, shock you with the weight of them. swallowing back tears, you turn, climbing the stairs to the bedroom.

carmen is scoffing, hands shaking with rage and annoyance and just overwhelmed. your ignoring him stings. makes him spiral even more. "don't go do it now! it's too late!" carmen scoffs. "i've got a fuckin' critic coming in two hours, and i'll wear stained whites. probably get a shitty review about our food being gross an-and the chef being just as bad!"

you texted pete through your tears, telling him that you were coming to stay there for a while. shoving clothes for the night in your small bag quickly, hands shaking when you zipped it up, your wedding ring flashing at you. you stared at it, a wave of tears coming over you, screwing the ring off your finger and setting it on carmen's night stand next to a photo of you two on your honeymoon.

you packed teddy and anchovy's things quickly, knowing you'd come back tomorrow to get what else you needed. just the essentials, to get through the night. anchovy in his carrier, and teddy in her's, you ignored carmen's pacing, his deep breaths and clenched eyes, walking straight to the garage.

carmen looked up at the sound of the door, standing quickly. a damning rush of horror, of realization washed over him, pulled him right out of his clouded tantrum.

"w-what- what are you- hey, what-" carmen runs towards the car door, where you're putting teddy's car seat into place, shushing the wailing girl gently.

"-don't fucking touch me." you sneer, teeth bared in primal rage, pure protectiveness.

"baby, wait, wait, ju-just hold on. where're you- hey, don't- where're you goin'?" carmen's frantic, eyes wide, stomach churning.

you shut the car door, moving past him without looking to get to the driver's side. "no, no, no, no, no. don't-baby please, don't. i-i-i'm sorry. i'm sorry!" carmen's stuttering in fear, hands shaking trying to hold the door open, keep you from shutting it.

"let go." you growl, yanking the door. "you're not going to talk to me like that, carmen. i don't care if you're stressed, i don't care. you're not going to come home and talk to me like that because you fucked up. not when i've been at home all day taking care of our- my child."

carmen feels dizzy, mouth filling with spit, sure he's about to throw up.

you slam the door, eyes watery and red and angry, glaring at him before pulling out of the driveway.

carmen's left alone in the garage, knees weak, hands shaking. his ears are ringing, head spinning, sure that he's hallucinating- that this has to be a sick sick dream. floods of realization icy through his veins.

the house is eerily quiet, so still. no teddy, no anchovy, no you.

he isn't sure how long he sits in the garage, the sun sinking in the horizon, but he stays motionless and still. richie shows up eventually, frantic and wide eyed.

"cousin! what the fuck? dinner service started a fuckin' hour ago, and we-" he stops, slowing his stride when he gets closer. carmen's vacant gaze, trembling hands.

"hey, carm, what's goin' on? you-you alright?" richie's voice dropped low and slow, like he used to with mikey. "carmen. hey, what's-"

"-she left." carmen whispered, his eyes wide in horror. "she-she left and she took t-teddy." carmen breaks, a sob choking out of his throat.

"why? why did she-" richie stops, looking at carmen. "carmen, what did you do?"

carmen sobs- no, wails. broken and terrified and horrified. full chest sobs that are more like screams. the realization of what he had done, what he had said, feeling the full weight of the consequences of his actions for the first time.

[thebearer]

please please please need a part two of the fight blurb 😭 what happens next 😭😭😭

should i make it into a full fic omg?? maybe?? lol

but on the real, i think that he would have to take a leave from the restaurant, which truthfully, everyone needed. this is just what broke him. the one time he actually tries to deal with his shit and not just blow up, get embarrassed, try to make it up, and repeat the cycle with no real change. i mean, you took his babies? anchovy and teddy. you're not returning his calls. richie, fak, and sweeps are alternating wellness check watches because they're terrified he's going to hurt himself, especially after the way he spiraled when he found your wedding ring.

he knows where you're at. he managed to become technologically savvy all of a sudden and figured out how to see your location, that you shared with him when you first started dating. fak wouldn't let him take his car. richie had put him on a full blown "psych ward type shit" lockdown until he "got his shit together, cousin".

"richie said-"

"-richie's a fuckin' moron, give me my fucking keys, fak!"

"carmen," fak frowns. "i-i can't."

so carmen walked. he walked to sugar and pete's house. nearly an hour walk through chicago. smoking so much he felt sick.

pete answered the door, face falling as soon as he saw carmen.

"carm, h-hey, man-"

"-where is she?" carmen wasn't interested on any sort of small talk, tunnel visioned to get to you.

"uh, i-i don't-"

"-pete, i really don't want you to fuck with me right now, alright." carmen took a deep breath, throat burning with tears. "i need to see- i-i need to see her pete." he couldn't bring himself to even say your name.

a tiny meow came from behind pete, anchovy skippering towards carmen with bright eyes, tail raised. it made carmen's jaw clench, tears blurring his vision. he knew you had to be close by. looking at the time, you were probably feeding teddy, maybe putting her down for a nap. he should have been more considerate, came later in the day, carmen thought.

pete looked at the cat, down the hall, then back at carmen. "carm..." pete hesitated, gripping the door, letting it shut gently, shielding something behind him. "you know i can't."

"what the fuck? pete that's- just let me in." anger surged through carmen's chest, trying to swallow it down. all he'd been was angry. angry and sick and distraught, a never ending cycle for weeks, just amplified by your leaving.

"you want to get her back? quit actin' like a goddam baby." richie sneered one night, just days ago, when carmen was especially awful and mean. "quit actin' like this isn't your fuckin' fault. like you didn't do this to yourself. take some fuckin' accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin' shit together. and maybe-maybe you'll get your family back."

carmen turned, running a hand over his face, trying to calm himself. keep himself from crying, from screaming, from pushing pete down and running back there so he could see you himself- throw himself at your feet and beg for forgiveness.

"pete, please? please?" carmen's voice wobbled, breaking gently. "please l-let me talk to her. just let me- let me tell her i'm sorry. don't-"

"-carmen?" sugar's voice came from behind pete. her face dropped, different than pete's, her's was angry. "what the fuck are you doing here?"

"why do you think i'm here, natalie? huh?-"

"-oh, you've got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here." natalie sneered, pulling the door open and stepping out. "pete, go inside."

"nat-"

"-i got it." natalie hissed, eyes narrowing at carmen. she waited until pete left, shaking her head at him. "you should be fucking ashamed-"

"-i am-"

"-mortified." sugar continued. "do you know what i came home to the other night? i came home to pete taking care of your baby because your wife came here sobbing- sobbing, because you screamed at her? what the fuck is wrong with you? huh?"

"i don't know." carmen's voice was tight, fighting a tremble. "i-i don't fuckin' know. i didn't- i-i didn't mean-" a tear fell, the final crack in his demeanor. carmen wasn't sure how he had tears left, how he could sob anymore. yet here he was, on his sister's porch, tears flowing again.

sugar didn't comfort him, didn't move, just watched him through glaring eyes. "please let me s-see her. let me se-ee teddy, sugar, don't-don't keep my kid from me-"

"-i'm not keeping your kid from you." sugar snapped. "i didn't take teddy away. you know who did? you. you did carmen."

carmen flinched, he knew it was true but it still stung. "i know you don't remember dad very well, but you're acting just like him." sugar sneered.

"and before you try and come up with an excuse-"

"-i-i'm not-"

"-i want you to know, that every day. every single fucking day, there's days i want to drink myself to sleep. that mj or maggie make me want to pull my hair out and scream, or pete does something that infuriates me, but you know what i don't do?" sugar stepped towards carmen, arms still crosses. "i don't yell at them, i don't drink myself incoherent, i don't fucking act like mom or dad because i know how that felt." sugar jabbed a finger in her chest, eyes holding carmen's gaze intensely.

"i know how that fucked me up, i know how it fucked them up, how it fucked you and mikey up too- how it fucked everything in our fucking life up!" natalie laughed humorlessly. "and the last thing, the very last thing i would want, is to do that to pete, to my kids, to anyone."

carmen felt sick and yet eerily calm all at once. his chest was tight, he was sure he couldn't breathe, but he couldn't stop listening. a damning realization- a shameful one.

"you need to make up your mind, right here, right now, before you see anyone else." natalie stepped back towards the door. "you need to decide if you're going to continue to be a selfish piece of shit, or if you're going to change. and i can tell you, change is uncomfortable- it's not easy. you have to fight for it every single day. but i would rather do that than not have my family."

she looked down at carmen, twisting the knob. "you decide that, then maybe- maybe you can see them." carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, not moving from his place on the porch, head in his hands.

fak showed up nearly an hour later, wide eyed and rambling about "how the fuck did you just leave? i was playing ball buster and-and then you're gone-"

carmen ignores him, sliding into the car slowly. "carmen?"

"you uh," carmen's voice is hoarse, staring straight ahead. "you said that, uh, that richie's got.... got someone for me to talk to?"

fak blinks, nodding slowly. "the therapist? yeah-"

"-take me there." carmen looks over at sugar's house. he isn't sure if it's his imagination or not, but for a moment he swears he can see you, peeking through the blinds.

"a-are you ok?" fak is worried, a little rattled at the sudden change. especially since carmen had been so adamant about not seeing "your stupid fuckin' therapist, richie, clearly she's no fuckin' good because look at you! you're still fucked up!" carmen's enraged words from days ago.

"no," carmen admits, throat swelling with a growing lump. "but, uh, i-i wanna be." he admits quietly, looking over at fak. "i gotta get my shit together, fak. i-i gotta be better for them."

fak doesn't deny it, doesn't console him. just goes quiet with a nod, driving away. carmen watches sugar's house disappear in the rearview, his heart aching, breaking, but he knows natalie is right. he knows he'll be back once he's better, that he has to be better. for teddy. for you. for your family.

[thebearer]

Thinking about dad!Carmy going to Teddy or Willow’s kindergarten graduation. She has a little cap and gown. She walks across the stage and gets a mini diploma. The announcer announces her name and what she wants to be when she grows up, maybe a Chef just like her daddy. I know reader and Carmy would be a mess. Just so proud of their little girl.

both of their little graduations omg 🥹🥹 in their little cap and gowns. they get to throw their caps at the end and teddy is so fucking excited about that part. she keeps messing with it on stage, just fidgeting ready to throw hers.

gets up to the mic to say what she wants to be. the instructions were say your name and what you want to be. "my name is dorothea michelle berzatto," full name ofc, which garners a lot of laughs. "and i wanna be barbie when i'm a grownup." the barbie movie was a big hit in the berzatto house, specifically with teddy who loved everything about it. pretty fitting for her personality. you and carmen can't help but laugh. honestly, that was pretty tame for teddy. with her it could have been so much worse lol.

when it's willow's turn, you both are a little more apprehensive. her first year of school wasn't great. she had a stutter, had started going to speech, and that came with some challenges specifically with the kids at school. just asshole kids doing asshole things. willow was so nervous to talk. her stutter had gotten a lot better, just struggled with her r's. she practiced for days with her speech therapist and you and carmen.

you both held your breath when she got up to the mic. "my name is willow ber-rzatto." you smiled at her from the audience. "and i want to be a chef when i grow up." she had refused to tell you or carm what she was going to say for that part. your shy sweet little baby had wanted it to be a surprise, and what a surprise it was. carmen was so emotional, trying to keep it together but you definitely saw him trying to casually wipe his eyes.

[thebearer]

do you think carmen has like a cutie little lock screen/homescreen or just the default ones that appear when you get the phone lol

he starts out with the default (like he does on the show) and then one day he notices you have him as your lockscreen and he’s like “oh that’s actually the best idea”. he takes a photo of you, maybe uses one he already has. wants a really really good one, a good memory so he thinks about it every time he turns on his phone.

it changes once every 2-5 years. once when you first start seriously dating (the first time mentioned above).

the second is a few months after you get anchovy- it’s you and him in a photo. i think it would be one where you’ve dressed him up and you’re showing carmen proudly, just beaming through the phone.

the third when you’re engaged. probably after buying the brownstone and it’s you and anchovy outside on the front steps, holding him to you, grinning widely with your ring showing.

then it’s with baby teddy. you hired someone to come to the house and take “life style photos” (“what does that mean?” “just us in our natural habitat, carm.” “…but why is that in our house?”). it’s you, carm, baby teddy, and anchovy lurking beside you. really the focus is on teddy, swaddled and new between the two of you. he’s like half cropped out in the picture on his phone bc he just wants to see you three. his favorite photo.

then it would probably stay that way until willow came along except it’s you, teeny tiny newborn willow, teddy, and anchovy asleep in the bed. teddy’s snuggled in one side, willow’s being held to your chest, and anchovy’s curled up on your lap. you hate the photo, think you look like a mess. “i think you look pretty” carmen mumbles, staring at the photo with such affection. he loves the rawness of it.

those are the big ones. every now and then something will come along and carmen will want to change it again, but it has to be really big bc he’s a little picky about it. he’s a bit of a diva when it comes to his lockscreens and changing them. he wants all his faves in there.

[thebearer]

carmy gonna be clingy as hell after this argument. comes home for every lunch break, stealing teddy from you for extra snuggles, lingering in bed before he has to get ready just so he can hold you and randomly calling through the day so he can hear your voice

the most clingy in a way you don’t even know.

i was waiting to answer this until part three was posted bc in my mind, you don’t send carmen as many picture updates since his little truth rant. you don’t want to make him upset or wish that he was home, so instead you send texts or like a picture a day and it drives carmen INSANE.

he tried to let it go in the beginning, because he still thinks you’re upset. then one day, teddy is especially smiley and you can’t help it. you send videos and pictures and carmen is so smitten.

then the next day there’s not as many and that just cant happen lol. he’s re-hooked. calls you literally five times before noon to see what you’re doing. facetimes you. which for carmen?? is very rare.

finally you ask him what’s going on, and he kinda admits it. “just wanted to see what my girls were up to.”

“i’m about to feed her and get her down for a nap. nothing major.” you’re confused bc ??? that’s why you called carmen?? again??

“yeah? hey, uh, i-i mean if you wanted to. you can, you can send me a picture when she’s asleep.” carmen mutters. “or whenever, ya know. everybody likes to see them. ‘specially tina. we, uh, we all look forward to them.”

so you start sending them again- for tina ofc lol. carmen is still so needy, especially with going home any chance he gets. he’s going home to see you, to see teddy. you show up to family for the first time since you brought teddy to meet everyone and carmen is beaming BEAMING. he’s so proud and so happy, it’s like a different carmy, they can barely recognize him he’s so happy.

[thebearer]

baby blues |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: two blue lines change all your plans, and carmen doesn't take it well. or how you tell carmen you're pregnant.

read the entire dad!carmen berzatto masterlist here!

contains: language, pregnancy, angst, carmen's an asshole, alludes to past parent trauma, hurt/comfort.

"Shit."

The hiss of your tone bounced off the green tiles of your bathroom, an eerie echo that rang dully through your mind. A reminder that this was all too real, happening right now in front of you- to you.

After weeks of what you thought was a stomach bug- retching at almost anything, exhaustion, aches- you had come to realize it might not just be a virus when you looked at the unopened box of tampons under the sink.

You were late.

A frantic trip to Walgreens, an hour of avoidance out of pure fear, three glasses of water, and two tests later; you were here. Looking at the two mocking blue lines on both tests. You were pregnant.

You called your best friend, Alicia, unsure of who else to confide in. Scared, emotional, overwhelmed, you sobbed into the phone, hand holding your head on the edge of the bed. "Carmen is gonna lose his shit."

"Carmen is not gonna lose his shit." Alicia soothed over your heaving gasps. "He will be fine. You both will be fine. You're married. What's the issue?"

You shook your head, swiping your thumb under your eyes. "You don't... Carmen and I haven't, like, ever really talked about kids." You muttered. It was mostly true. You hadn't really, other than euphoric pillow talk ramblings where you both were just bubbly with love, spilling shared wishes under sheets.

"I thought you said you wanted kids?"

"Yeah, but not now." You sobbed into the phone. "I don't... I don't think I'm ready to be a mom. I'm not gonna be good at that. I don't-I don't know anything about kids! And-And I can barely cook, and- Alicia, I couldn't keep our cactus alive! I killed our fucking cactus, and you think I'm ready for a kid?"

Alicia laughed lightly on the other end. "Ok, true, but you won't kill your kid. You'll be much more attached to it than the cactus." She countered easily, calmly. "And you'll be a good mom, babe. I know you'll be. And Carmen knows too. You know he does. Call your OBGYN and get an appointment. Make sure this is legit and get your vitamins and let me know what you need from me."

Two days later, you were laid on the cool paper at the doctor's office, eyes wide watching her drag the wand over your tummy. Seven weeks. The ultrasound clutched in your hand had an arrow where the baby was, it was still so small. A blip, a splotch right on your plans.

You decided to tell Carmen that night. He knew something was off with you, starting to get more and more suspicious. It was only a matter of time.

"Hey, baby." You grinned as excited as you could when he came home.

"Hey," Carmen chirped, grinning back at you when you kissed him sweetly, a little longer than usual, not that he minded. "How are you doin', baby? Good day?"

"Yeah, it was." You quipped, throat tightening, desperately trying to keep your voice from cracking. "I, uh, I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Carmen's brows lifted, dropping his bag by the door. "What kinda surprise, huh? Somethin' under this?" He teased, hand sliding up your shorts, palming at your ass and making you squirm.

You couldn't help the fleeting thought that he wouldn't be able to do that for long. Not when a baby was in the house. Your throat burned with tears at the thought.

"No." You shook your head. "Just... Here, sit right here for me and I'll be right back." You kissed his cheek sweetly, running to the spare bedroom for the ultrasound. You wondered if this would be the baby's nursery. Or maybe upstairs in the makeshift workout room Carmen used. It felt odd planning this type of thing, thinking about this.

Your hands were sweaty, trying not to wrinkle the printed photo. It was your first after all. The first picture of many. Ones you secretly hoped would line the walls of your house. Pictures of the baby, with you and Carmen.

You hoped Carmen would be in them.

That horrid thought always made it's way back into your mind, rattling you to your core.

"Close your eyes." You tried to sing-song, playful and light like you usually would. The kind of tone that was silly, left Carmen grinning and doing what you said. Instead, it sounded tired.

Carmen still covered his eyes anyways. You took a soft breath, placing the photo in front of him. "Ok, y-you can open." You whispered.

Carmen's brow lifted, looking at you carefully before down at the table. He stilled, face unmoving, body halted, eyes zoned in on the ultrasound.

"Wh-What-What is this?" Carmen's tone was hushed, tight, like his chest felt. He was sure this wasn't what he thought it was. It couldn't be.

"I, um, you know I-I've been feeling not great." You started, wringing your hands in front of him. "And I... I haven't had my period in a while, so I went to the store and... and I got a test, and it was..." You motioned down to the ultrasound. "I'm pregnant, Carmen."

The house was still. That same eerie stillness creeping back in, looming over both of you in such a sickening way, it had your stomach twisting.

Carmen blinked, shaky hands picking up the ultrasound, refusing to look at you. "Oh."

"Oh?" You repeated. "Carmen, I-I said I'm pregnant."

"No, no, I, uh, yeah, I-I heard you." Carmen nodded, leg bouncing under the table. "I just... I thought you were on birth control."

"Carmen, what?" You snapped. "I am."

"Then-Then how the fuck-"

"-Oh, don't you fuckin' dare, Berzatto." You hissed, rolling your eyes at him, snatching the ultrasound off the table.

"I'm not fuckin' blaming you, but-but how?" Carmen could feel his heart rate rising, ears ringing and head spinning with that old, familiar feeling of a panic attack coming on.

"How?" You gawked at him. "Carmen, it's not, like, a one-hundred percent guarantee, and-and... Come on, Carmen, we've been fucking a lot lately."

"I don't..." Carmen stopped himself, his hand rubbing over his eyes. Your heart skipped, chest aching with fear when you looked at him. Carmen pushed his chair out, standing and pacing around the kitchen, hands on his hips, lips in a thin line. "I-I need to think. Fuck, I need to think, just-just..."

You tracked him, your own heart hammering loud in your ears. Carmen snatched his cigarettes, hands shaking when he turned them over in his hands slowly. You could practically hear his thoughts, when the baby is here, he can't smoke anymore.

"I need a fuckin' second, ok? I need to fuckin' think!" Carmen boomed, voice thundering off the walls, making you jump. Carmen snatched his lighter and Spirits, stomping out the front door, the slam of the door the last thing you heard before the house settled and stilled again. Your worst possible scenario played out in front of you, becoming a reality too.

You were alone.

"Cousin, can I ask you, what the fuck your fuckin' problem is?" Richie grit, sliding beside Carmen. "The fuck are you being such a jagoff about, right now?"

"I'm being a jagoff?" Carmen snapped, slamming the knife down. His eyes were wild, hair even wilder. Curls matted and sticking out like they did when Carmen was stressed, when he'd ran his hands through them too much.

"Yeah, you're bein' a fuckin' jagoff." Richie countered, voice raising over Carmen's. "You look like shit, you smell like shit, and you're treatin' everyone here like fuckin' shit. So what's the fuckin' issue?"

"Fuck you, Richie, alright? Fuck you. Get the fuck outta my fuckin' face!" Carmen roared, the vein in his neck protruding when he did, sending the few chefs still in the kitchen retreating before they were screamed at next.

"Y'know why don't you just fuckin' calm down? Makin' everyone here fuckin' miserable with your bad attitude. No wonder-" Richie stopped, eyes flicking down to Carmen. His shoulders dropped, sighing heavy at his own revelation. "What'd you do?"

"What? What did I... Fuck off, I'm not in the-"

"-Nah, Cousin. What did you do?" Richie shook his head. "Why's she not here today, huh?"

"I'm right here." Natalie muttered, turning the corner, balancing two cups and a large work bag. "I had to take Chelle to Pete's office so he can take her to dance, and traffic was..." Natalie laughed cynically, shaking her head.

Carmen felt his stomach twist, jaw tightening. That would be you two before you knew it. All over the place, late to shit because of the kid. Just like Sugar and fucking Pete. That made him Pete.

"Not you, but I'm glad to see you. How are you?" Richie muttered, pressing a chaste kiss to Sugar's cheek. "Carmen fucked up."

"I did not-"

"-You fucked up? On what, bear?" Natalie blinked, frowning lightly. "Oh, before I forget, where's my favorite sister in law? I have her-" Richie gave her a pointed look. Sugar stopped, face falling in realization. "Oh, that's... Carm, what did you do?"

"Can you two just fuck off? Fuck!" Carmen roared, kicking a pot under the table.

"Wow, anger issues much?" Sugar rolled her eyes at his dramatics. "Is this what you did? Is that why she isn't here?"

"No, Natalie, you're pissin' me the fuck off-"

"Alright!" Richie clapped his hands, cutting them both off. "Family meeting. Ok? Meeting time. Right now."

"I don't have time-" Carmen started, Richie just clapping his hands on his shoulders, shoving him away from the table.

"Natalie, family meeting." Richie waved her in.

"Family meeting?" Fak turned the corner, eyes lit up hopefully.

"Not with you, you fuckin'..." Richie huffed, shaking his head. "Me, Nat, and Carm are having a meeting. Do your jobs, ok? Don't bother us, just... handle it, alright? Thank you. Every second counts and all that bullshit." Richie nodded towards the staff, shutting Carmen's office door behind him.

"Carm, you... Are you ok?" Natalie winced, looking at her younger brother.

Carmen ran his hands over his eyes, slumped in his desk chair, knees bouncing nervously. His breaths labored and ragged in his hands. Richie's eyes cut to Natalie's.

"Cousin," Richie's voice was softer this time. "What is goin' on?"

Carmen took a shaky breath in, Richie stilling at the sound of his emotions. "You... You were right. I fucked up." Carmen muttered. "I fucked up. I fucked up so bad." Carmen's voice was tight, thick with tears he was trying to choke back.

Natalie stepped forward slowly. "Carmen, what did you do?" She said as calmly as she could. "Just-Just tell us, and we'll... we'll try and help you."

"Did you cheat on her?" Richie asked, brows furrowed in disgust.

"No, what? Why the... No, no, no, I-I..." Carmen leaned back in the chair, hands knotted in his hair. "She's pregnant."

Richie and Natalie paused, both sighing slightly in relief. "Oh my God, that's great!"

"Yeah, I mean, Cousin, I thought you... I'm glad you didn't, but that's great!"

"Aw, is that why she's been sick? Poor thing. I knew it! You know Pete said that, and I-" Natalie started, Carmen's sudden jerk of his body, sitting in the chair with frantic eyes stopped her.

"I don't know!" Carmen blurted, shaking his head, refusing to look at them. At their furrowed brows of concern. He couldn't face them. Tell them what he'd done.

"You don't know?" Sugar frowned in confusion. "You don't know if she's pregnant?"

"I-I..." Carmen felt his chest tightening, burning with that familiar ache. He tried to breathe in, slow and long, counting back from ten like his therapist told him, but his chest still ached. "I left."

The room filled with that same eerie silence, the one that seemed to be following him around lately. The one that crept into the room when you showed him the ultrasound, the same one that followed him into the restaurant last night.

"You left?"

"You fuckin' what?"

Natalie and Richie gawked, eyes wide and frantic, looking down at Carmen.

"Cousin... What the fuck? You don't... Holy shit." Richie muttered, shaking his head.

"Carmen, have you lost your mind?" Natalie snapped. She was angry- no, furious. "You left your wife? You left your pregnant wife?"

"Yes, fuck, yes, I just... I needed to fuckin' think!" Carmen threw his hands out. "I can't think! She just... We weren't planning it and-and then... I just needed to think!"

"Then think at home! Or-Or with the person you're having a baby with, Carmen, Jesus!" Natalie roared back.

"Cousin, you... you fucked up." Richie said solemnly, nodding in agreement. "I mean, I've done a lot of shit. A lot, ok? Just ask Tiff. But I...I never fuckin' left."

"No, she just fuckin' left you, right? Tiff couldn't take you bein' an-"

"Hey, woah, take it fuckin' easy, Cousin. Watch it. This ain't about me." Richie snarled, finger jabbing in Carmen's direction. "I didn't fuck this up, ok? You did. This is your shit. We're just tryin' to fuckin' help you, so why don't you do all that de-escelatin' bullshit and take a fuckin' breath and relax."

Carmen's teeth ground tight, eyes flickering over to Natalie. "I'm with Richie on this." She snapped. "You did fuck up. Huge."

Carmen could feel the burn, rising in his throat. Was it fear? Vomit? Tears? Regret? All of the above?

"I know, I know, fuck, I know." Carmen muttered, falling back into the chair. "I just... I know, and-and now I don't know..." Carmen could feel his heart rate, waves of guilt and realization crashing over him, leaving him feeling sick.

Carmen stood quickly, hands tangled in his hair, pacing in the small area of the office. "Holy shit, she's gonna leave me. She-She's gonna leave me, and-and... Fuck! Why do I always do this? I always fuck up! Always! Like... What the fuck? Why-Why-"

"-Carmen." Sugar said slowly, hands on his shoulders, stopping him. "Hey, breathe. Breathe. Just... Just relax, ok?"

"No, no, no, I-I can't fuckin' relax. I-I got to-" Carmen rambled, his chest squeezing, burning.

"Carm, look, just... Just do the breathing thing. Listen to Natalie." Richie nodded towards Sugar. "And we'll get it handled, alright? We can't fix this until you calm the fuck down."

"Richie," Natalie hissed, rolling her eyes in irritation. "Carmen, breath in through your nose, out through your mouth. Innnnn and Out." She mimicked for him, slow pulls of air and soft exhales.

Carmen could hear you. Hear you in his head telling him to calm down, feel your hands on his cheeks, your soft praises and coos. His heart ached but it tricked his mind enough to listen, shaky rasps of air falling in and out until he was on sitting in the chair, knee bouncing with adrenaline.

Natalie shook her head lightly, looking over at Richie, then Carmen. "You need to go talk to her."

"I know. I know, Nat, but I got a dinner rush-"

"Carmen." Natalie sneered, in that tone. The tone she used usually with her own kids. A tone of finality.

"I got it covered, Cousin, alright? I got it." Richie nodded, patting Carmen on his back. "Just... Go figure your shit out."

"Yeah." Natalie huffed, eyes narrowed at her younger brother. "You better bring that poor girl some flowers or something. Better make it up to her, Carmen, that is so gross of you."

Carmen nodded softly, grabbing his back pack, shedding his apron. "I-I'll have my phone on me-"

"-Go!" Richie and Natalie yelled in unison.

"I got it, Cousin." Richie shook his head.

"Yeah, and you have other things to worry about." Natalie snapped. "More important things, like your marriage, and your kid."

Carmen's heart skipped at that. It sounded weird, unnatural. His kid. Mind racing back to images of you with his niece and nephew. How Chelle took to you so naturally when you first met her, cradling her in your arms while Natalie scampered off for a shower. Carmen's heart swelled at the thought, how he had watched you, how good you were at it.

He knew you'd be a good mom. Had no doubt about that. That wasn't the issue. No, the problem was him.

Carmen Berzatto, who's family was the epitome of chaos, and who's genes this baby would have. Would the baby have your eyes and his crippling anxiety? His curls and his coping skills? Your nose and smile, and his family's addiction gene?

You would be the perfect mom. You were already so perfect in every way to Carmen. Too kind and forgiving and funny and sweet to him, he couldn't understand why you loved him sometimes. You would be good no matter what.

You'd be better without him.

His mind screamed it over and over. He couldn't shake the thought last night, sitting on the steps of your home, chain smoking through half a pack while his mind raced, horrible voices mocking and sneering at him, telling him he wasn't good enough; that he wouldn't be good enough. That you would be better off alone.

Then he was walking. Walking as fast as he could away from your home, back to the restaurant, where he could distract himself. Where he could trick his mind to focus on anything else other than you.

It didn't work, of course. It never did.

His mind still raced, all the way back to your home- his home. The home he shared with you. The place you bought for the future; your future together. A future that now, looked like it would be a little fuller.

You gripped the porcelain of the toilet seat, stomach lurching again, spilling the contents of- you didn't even know what. How there was anything left, you weren't sure.

Your nose burned with tears, head drumming with a dull ache, throat burning with the acidity flare of bile. And worst of all, the only person you wanted was Carmen.

You were furious, hurt, just... confused with him, but your body still ached for him. For him to come in, rub your back and coo at you. Settle you and calm you, like he always did.

The front door closed softly, the thud of the latch echoing through the all too still house. Anchovy chirped and trilled, Carmen's soft, raspy greeting back to him making your body jolt.

You stayed still, waiting and quiet with each muffled footstep of Carmen's, his sneakers falling closer and closer until the door opened gently. Your gaze on his, watching him with wide, red rimmed eyes from the bathroom floor. His own reflecting down on you, hand still gripping the door knob.

"You... You're still sick?" Carmen asked, awkward and unsure. He didn't know what to say, where to even begin.

"Yeah." You sneered, hand slapping on the knob, flushing the toilet. "Guess that'll be happening for a while."

Carmen flinched at your tone. You were angry. No, you were hurt. The revelation made him feel like he needed to throw up next, the ache in his stomach rivaling the one in his chest.

You pushed up off the tub, Carmen's hands reaching to help you. You slapped them away with a menacing scoff. "Don't touch me." You snapped. "I've got it."

Carmen nodded, backing out slowly, giving you space to brush your teeth. He didn't miss the tremor in your hands when you held the toothbrush, refusing to meet his eyes in the mirror.

"I..." Carmen's voice shook, a squeak of a word that had wobbled when he spoke. "I, uh, I-I'm sorry."

Your eyes flashed to his furiously, lips pursing. "I know that's... fuck, that's not..." Carmen sighed heavily, a grounding breath to soothe his nerves, get the shake out of his voice. "I don't know what-what else to say other than... I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" You sneered, turning to him, your tone unnervingly calm. "You're fucking sorry?"

"Yeah, I-"

"-You left me!" You roared, chest heaving with fury. Your fears and sadness had turned into rage, pure rage.

"I go outside to check on you, and you're gone! Who the fuck does that, Carmen? What the fuck is wrong with you?" You screamed.

"I-I don't know, I just..." Carmen's chest tightened, strangling his words. The pounding in his chest had returned, as had the queasiness in his stomach.

"You just? Just what, Carmen? Just don't want to be with me anymore?" Your voice cracked, tears brimming your waterline.

The silence was back. Uncomfortably loud and suffocating. Neither one of you moved, just stared at each other through heaving chests.

"I-I..." Carmen swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "How could you... You think I-I don't want to be with you?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to think, Carmen?" You scoffed, throwing your hands out in exasperation. "You left!"

Carmen winced at the harshness of your tone. "I didn't... I just needed to think-"

"-Think?" You scoffed. "Think about what exactly, Carmen? Huh? Whether you were going to stay-"

"-No! Fuck, no!" Carmen barked, mind racing and overwhelmed. Hands trembling, heart pounding, he stared at you. "About... About how it would be. About how I would be."

"How you would be?"

"Yeah, how I would be." Carmen snaps, a little too defensive even for his own liking. It was habit, even after years of trying to be better, it still crept out at times.

Carmen took a breath, turning to you. "I'm... I don't think I'm going to be a good dad."

Your own heart sunk, a dull ache in your chest, heavy with the weight of his words. The fall of his face, lips curling downward. "Carmen," You said softly. "Why-Why would you... We've talked about having kids before."

"Yeah, but not... I thought I had time." Carmen admitted, hands shaking when he crossed his arms over his chest to still them. "I-I thought I would have some time to-to get my shit together."

You paused, watching his face crumble. The deep breath he took to keep himself from crying- from breaking. "I don't- I don't wanna be a bad dad. I don't wanna fuck this kid up." Carmen whispered, eyes darting everywhere but your own. He couldn't look at you when he said it, sure when he saw the sorrow in your own eyes he would crumble at your feet.

"Carmen," You said softly, taking a step towards him. He took one back, distancing himself. He knew what you were going to do. Reach out and comfort him, make him feel better- he didn't deserve that.

"Carm, please," You begged lightly. "You... You know you're gonna be a good dad-"

"-No, no, I don't know that." Carmen scoffed, shaking his head. "I mean, my fuckin' dad was a piece of shit, so was his dad, so-so will I. And-And I don't wanna do that to this kid. I don't wanna do that to you."

"Stop." You snapped, lips pressed together, sniffling to keep your own tears at bay. "Just...Just stop. Ok? Stop. You're... Do you really think I would have married you if I thought that bad of you? Do you think I would have ever even entertained the thought of having a baby with you, starting a family, if I thought you'd be shitty?"

Carmen's own eyes shone with unshed tears. You blinked, wiping the hot tears that ran down your cheeks away. "I'm scared, too. I-I called Alicia over you because I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how you would react." You admitted.

Carmen nodded, you could see the hurt in his eyes. "So you knew I would react like this? You didn't tell me because you knew I'd be a bad-"

"-No, I didn't tell you because I know you don't like surprises." You snapped. "I know you don't like to be fuckin' blindsided and-and shocked. I don't either. I knew it would shock you. I knew it wasn't apart of our plan right now." You held his gaze, eyes hard when you met his.

"But I never thought you'd be a bad dad." Your tone was firm. It made Carmen's heart swell. "I still don't think you'd be a bad dad, for the record. I think you're an asshole, and I'm furious with you." You said pointedly.

Carmen nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I... I don't blame you f'that." He muttered, looking down at his hands, wedding band shining almost mockingly back up at him. "Sugar's pissed at me. Richie, too." He paused, eyes lifting to yours. "I'm mad at me too."

"Yeah? Me too." You sigh, looking at him. "You can't just leave-"

"-I know." Carmen nodded. "I-I know. I don't... I'm sorry." Carmen looked at you, shoulders falling slightly. "I'm so sorry."

You nodded gently, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. "This is not how I thought this would go, honestly." You admitted with a small, wet laugh.

"Which part?" Carmen hummed, hesitantly reaching out to wipe your tear stained cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"All of it." You sighed. "But telling you. I-I always thought I'd do one of those cute, little Pinteresty things and surprise you."

"Yeah? 'm sorry." Carmen muttered, his heart fluttering with guilt again. "Maybe next time?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. Damn him, making you smile when you were supposed to be mad at him- you were still mad at him. But you were tired even more. Exhausted emotionally, physically- you just wanted to crawl into bed.

Carmen pulled you closer to him, his hand running down your spine. "Maybe you can do that cutesy shit to tell everyone else." He suggested. "I mean... Fuck, well, I-I told Richie and-and Sugar, but... Tina? Or all them?"

You bit back a smile, the curl of your lips betraying you. "Yeah." You hum, your body betraying you as you sunk into Carmen's chest.

"Here," Carmen muttered, pulling you close to him. "I'll get you in bed, and I'll go on the couch-"

"-No," You sighed, shuffled steps down the hall. "I don't... Just sleep in the bed with me."

Carmen hesitated. "No, I-I can stay on the couch. I know you don't-"

"-I can't sleep without you, Carm." You pleaded. "I didn't sleep at all last night, and-and... I just want to sleep."

Carmen nodded, following you into the shared bedroom. Stripping out of his jeans, trading them for sweatpants, before climbing in the bed with you. You stayed on your side, Carmen on his own. There was still tension, still lingering feelings of that familiar eeriness, but there was also comfortability.

Carmen would make it up to you. He'd be at every appointment, paint the nursery- be everything you knew he would be. Later. In the coming weeks as you two welcomed, embraced the baby coming. You'd get to tell everyone in your cutesy way like you'd dreamed. Tina's reaction would make you cry, and the baby shower would make you sob. You'd mull over baby names for hours with Carmen, going back and forth, testing each name tentatively until you found the perfect one.

For now, you were happy just to know Carmen was here with you. You were happy just to sleep. There was still so much ahead of you- of both of you.

[thebearer]

i can’t imagine the rage carmy would have if donna ever said anything about you, or even if you were pregnant or just had the baby, and she was like “i was already back to work” or something to make you feel bad about yourself as a new mom

the rage. oh, the rage. he would lose it, absolutely lose it. the second your face fell, especially if you were having some postpartum depression or just overall anxieties? he's going for blood.

"yeah, and that turned out great, right? mother of the year? your son fuckin' shot and killed himself, ma." carmen would sneer, already grabbing teddy's stuff, a gentle hand ushering the two of you away while he's tearing into her.

"a great fuckin' mom. you-you fuckin' wish you could care about a kid the way she does, alright? you didn't give a shit about any of us."

"carmen anthony, that is not true-"

"-oh? you're still downing, what, four bottles a day? you chose that shit over any of us every fuckin' day, and you're gonna say somethin' about my wife?"

you're pulling him out, trying to get him to calm down. it doesn't help your stress, your guilt, but you do appreciate him standing up for you.