#pete the bear

[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.”

[asexual-juliet]

hello the bear nation i am once again coming at you with a bingo board for the upcoming season

[savorycannoli]

Can I talk about sugar for a second? Like all of the berzatto children are tragic and doomed by the narrative in their own right, but nat’s story means so such to me idk if I can even fully talk about it all. We see her relationship with her mom is strained at best, it seems like she’s the least favorite child, maybe BECAUSE of her existence as a woman.

And then we find out that her lifelong nickname is based off of a childhood mistake, her being overeager to help her family literally turned into a lifelong reminder of her fuck up. Is there anything more tragic?? A child wanting love but getting scorn?? And then it makes the flashback scene where she tries to add raisins in season 1 all the more upsetting because why did she add them?

“That’s how mom makes it.” she’s the only one that still follows their mom’s recipe. The reason? Could be anything. But I have no doubt in my mind if she DIDN’T add the raisins if Donna had been around she would’ve been ridiculed even more.

I have such a soft spot in my heart for girls and their complex relationships with their moms and motherhood, and it makes her scene with cicero in the car that much more impactful. When cicero says he would let his kids make more mistakes and not been as careful, i almost started crying. Nat has a nickname from her mistakes and it seems like in her mom’s eyes she’s nothing but mistakes. And then her uncle tells her that she’ll be a good mother and that it’s okay for kids to make mistakes, great, even.

I’m so happy nat is in a place where she’s happy and supported. She has a husband who deeply understands her family and doesn’t judge her for it, even making an effort to try and include Donna. I was kind of meh about pete before season 2, but it solidified for me that he’s so so good for nat and a great character. He is so excited to be a dad, he’s patient and kind with her and her family, and he doesn’t call her sugar.

She’s nat. And she’s allowed to make mistakes.

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

the saddest thing about natalie berzatto is that she was never welcomed into the kitchen, which is probably why she never became a chef like her brothers.

her brothers were welcomed, and were praised.

for natalie, she had clearly attempted to cook as a child, but made a simple mistake, earning her a lifetime nickname that basically was code for ‘failure’.

it doesn’t take a genius to figure out she is her mother’s least favorite, and was most definitely deprived of love as a child.

however now, she has a sweet, caring, loving husband, who will be a great father to their child. and he doesn’t call her sugar.

[sydcarmyfan]

This scene is picture-perfect

When I look at this scene, I feel complete relief that everything will be okay. This scene is so beautiful to me for different reasons:

1. Pete and Sydney are engaged in a conversation, and they look so carefree. Pete is wearing pyjamas, and Sydney is wearing a comfortable outfit. These two are comfortable around each other, so their conversation will be beautiful to watch. Beautiful!

2. There is an orange diaper bag and baby bottles in the background, which means Nat has given birth, and Sydney came by her house to visit the new mother. Also, there are soup containers and a foil food tray, which means that Sydney brought food for the new parents. Beautiful!

3. Last but not least, there is natural light shining through the room, giving us a postcard-worthy view. Beautiful! It’s picture-perfect!

[ochrogasting]

more petecarm😃

[thegirlwhowatchedeverything]

Pete In S3

(previous post: Pete In S1 and S2)

There's not enough screen time for Pete in S3 (a sad reality for many of our faves due to Cl*ire), but I love he was frequently referenced - a constant offscreen presence which mirrors how much of a reliable partner he is to Nat and the most loyal and psyched to be an honorary Berzatto. Since we still don't know his last name, my unserious head canon is that he took Nat's last name because he was so psyched to marry Nat and be part of her family. I mean we got Cl*ire's last name before Pete's so it's not out of the realm of possibility. Another head canon that I've had since S1 is that Pete's an only child affected to the Berzatto family. Like Syd and Richie canonically, I suspect cousin Stevie based on his I don't have family like this in 2x6, and apparently now Marcus because the writers retconned the brother he mentioned in S2 during S3?

Nat and Carmy simultaneously remind Syd Pete's a lawyer who can look over the partnership agreement for her in 3x2.

Nat knows the meaning of Philosopher's Walk in Kyoto because Pete's a Friedkan fan like Richie in 3x4.

Nat knows violets are the state flower of Illinois because Pete loves flowers in 3x5.

Nat respects Computer specifically because he's one of the few who is nice to Pete 3x5.

Though Nat confesses she's scared Pete might leave her one day (and the overall insecurities she developed in childhood because of her mom), we know he never would. He proves he's her ultimate partner by turning the tables in asking Nat if she's okay instead of her having to ask as she's done her whole life in 3x8.

He and Syd in 3x9 - give me more of these two in S4! They are two of the kindest, most thoughtful characters. Him just fully not knowing how cooking food works, but it coming from a place of not wanting to wake his wife and newborn. Him thanking Syd for making Nat's favorite burnt edges lasagne (also Syd knowing that's Nat's favorite AND taking the time to cook food for her in laws not partner's family, including her pasta and bolognese from 2x2). His response to Syd asking how he's feeling as a new dad: I'm just so grateful. It reminded me of his Thank you for letting me be a part of this family in 1x4. And his words are reinforced by him wearing a Beef t shirt. And him ofc doing what Nat asks by reading over the partnership agreement and sharing the terms for the first time with us and Syd.

[thoughtfulchaos773]

Oh, just two men in deep sorrow over their spouses' mother wounds.

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

The most underestimated character of the series

Natalie Berzatto has been doing everything right since the very beginning, except → THIS

She should be Carmy's role model because she has been following these Al-Anon guidelines to the T and cashing in the results.

She realized she had to change and not repeat the same toxic cycle with her new family and she started doing her homework:

She forgives

She's honest with herself

She's humble:

She tries to take it easy:

She finds recreation and pictures, travel, scrapbooking hobbies:

Keeps on doing her best, even when she fails

Learns the facts about alcoholism

Attends AA meetings often

She prays

And there's one more thing she learned by herself that proves she's healed: SHE LEARNED TO SAY I LOVE YOU WHEN IT MATTERS TO WHOM IT MATTERS AND MAKE HERSELF HEARD:

Carmy just needs to follow her footsteps and he'll be fine.

When he does, the next logical step will be doing what Nat did and getting what Nat got:

I always say that Syd is the twist in Carmy's plot that will enable him to complete his redemption arc, but no one talks about how Nat is the redemption role model in Carmy's plot.

She has the same villain origin story and yet she could change the ending

A new begening

@underestimated-heroine you told me once you could write an essay on Natalie, well, be my guess. Add whatever you want to this post. Nat is an underestimated heroine, go ahead. (no pressure, only if you want to, ofc.)

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[nolita-fairytale]

don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | epilogue: november

summary: sugar has her baby marking the beginning of a new chapter for the berzatto family.

warnings: husband!carmy who comes with a warning label of his own, swearing, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns, the end

wc: 1300

listen to: 'lean on me' -- bill withers & 'chinatown' -- bleachers (because it's so make my heart surrender au coded) on the official don't want to walk alone playlist

a/n: well, folks! this gets us from here to the carmy as your baby daddy au. BUT i think it's time for me to let these two ride off into the sunset and go on their merry way. i have loved this story, these characters, this world since it filled my brain with a story that begged to be told, and forced me to write it because i couldn't stop thinking about it. i wrote something quite sappy in the a/n a few chapters ago, so i'll spare us an encore performance of it and just say this: thank you for reading. thank you for being a part of this story. thank you for being a part of their journey. i will pop into this world and perhaps maybe write oneshots from time to time, but... it's time, my loves. :) would anyone be interested in a behind the scenes look at this world like i did with 'burn your life down?' let me know!

part five | masterlist

November

After sixteen long hours, Sugar’s baby comes: a perfect, rosy-cheeked, healthy baby boy that sends you and Carmy rushing to the hospital. Sugar hadn’t wanted you to come till she was ready to push, and by the time you got the text from Pete, you’d sped to the restaurant, ready to drag Carmy out of there, regardless of how busy it had been. 

Besides, everyone knew what was going on – on the edges of their seats, phones at the ready to hear any and all news about the new member of the family, and more than happy to support so that you and Carmy could show up for Sugar. 

“Carm?” Sugar asks for her brother, as you and Pete hug it out in the waiting room. You can’t even tell that the man’s been up all night; the excitement and joy in his eyes overshadowing any and all fatigue. 

Carmy excuses himself from you and Pete’s congratulatory embrace, making his way into the hospital room where his sister lays, propped up on her bed, baby in arms. 

So much has changed for the both of them: his sister, now a mother, and he, an uncle. Carmy takes cautious steps forward, the reality of it all beginning to hit him. 

“Hi,” she smiles, in complete awe of her new baby. 

“Woah,” Carmy says, though completely incapable of hiding the smile that begins to form over his face. “You made that.”

“I made that,” she chuckles with an eye roll, glancing from the baby, to her brother, then back to her son. “And he’s the most perfect thing in the world. Baby boy, I want you to meet someone. I want you to meet your uncle.” 

Carmy carefully sits in the chair right next to the bed, turning his attention to the baby. 

“Can you say hi to your Uncle Carmy?” Nat coos, shifting so that she can properly introduce her son and Carmy. 

“Oh my goodness… look at you,” Carmy says, his eyes full of wonder as the sleeping baby shifts in Sugar’s arms. 

He’s not sure what to say, the words caught in his throat. He can feel it – that this is something momentous – but it’s as if he doesn’t know where to begin, lost in the magnitude of what’s happening right now. 

“Hey, little guy,” Carmy finally manages to get out, his voice stuck in his throat. 

Sugar chuckles again, letting out an exasperated sigh. 

“How ya doin?” Carmy asks, looking over at his sister this time. 

“Great. Just great,” she replies dryly, earning a laugh from Carmy, because it really has been one hell of a night. 

When she opens her mouth to answer this time, her words come out much more genuine and soft as she adds, “I am though. Really. I’m great.”

Carmy nods in understanding, his eyes searching his sister’s face for any more of a reaction. But he knows that this is a dream come true for her -- that being a mother had always been the plan. Carmy chooses to focus this time on the sleeping baby, who’s tucked his head into her chest, seeking out warmth and comfort in this strange, new world. 

“Bear?” Nat asks, as Carmy lifts his head to look at her once more. 

There’s something urgent in her voice that grabs his attention and he’s not sure what she’s going to say next. 

“Yeah?” he asks back, his eyes wide. 

“So I want to talk to you about something,” Sugar says, his voice softening even more as she looks down at her baby boy. Carmy nods once, letting her know that he’s ready as Nat continues. “I uh… well, Pete and I have been thinking a lot about this. And… I wanted to talk to you about it before we move forward with it.”

Carmy swallows, leaning in this time. 

“After we found out we were having a boy, Carm, we talked a lot… about what we would name him and… with his due date being in November… I don’t know. And look at him now, meeting him... it just feels right,” she begins, emotions welling in her voice. “We-, well, we want to name him Michael. If that’s okay… with you.”

Carmy has to stop for a moment, frozen in time as he hears the name. It’s not like he gets emotional about these kinds of things very often, but then again, this is all new to him – new to the little families they’re building; a new generation of Berzattos. 

“Uh,” Carmy croaks out, his voice stuck in his throat as he realizes he’s much more moved than he expected to be. “Uh yeah, Sug. I… it’s okay with me.”

“Are you sure? Because I didn’t know if you wanted to use the name or-,” Sugar begins to explain. 

“No, it’s-, it’s okay,” Carmy is quick to interject. “If it feels right. I mean we haven’t even-, you know, we’re not talking about… yet….” 

Sugar nods in understanding, because she knows that you and Carmy have only been married for two months now. Hell, she's your best friend; she'd know if either of you were talking about having kids.

“So,” Carmy says, his eyes suddenly feeling watery. “Guess there’s a new Michael Berzatto then?”

He takes another look at his baby nephew, joy and grief both trapped inside his chest. Carmy's overwhelmed by it all: hearing his name, what this means for the Berzattos, this new beginning. He thinks back to what you said to Sugar on your wedding day -- that this could be the start of a new chapter for all of you -- the reality of your words reflected back to him now, all in one tiny package of new life.

"Welcome to the world, buddy," Carmy manages to say, his voice soft and full.

And it's as if every single thing that's led to this moment, and every single possibility that the future may hold rush before his eyes.

“Welcome to the world, baby boy,” Sugar whispers, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

*

Wanting to give Carmy and Nat time alone together, you spend the first part of your hospital visit with Pete in the waiting room, as the teary-eyed man recounts the intensity of the last eight hours. You can see it in his eyes, hear it in the way he speaks, that this is a dream come true for him – becoming a father. 

Soon enough, Pete is ushering you into the hospital room, more than eager to introduce you to your new nephew. By the time you and Pete join her and Carmy, the new Berzatto is fast asleep on her chest, while Carmy sits quietly next to her. There’s an energy between the siblings, something you notice right away, and you can only imagine that this is emotional for the both of them on so many levels. 

“Hi,” you grin, looking from Sugar to Carmy, as you join him by her bedside.  

“Hi, sweetie,” Sugar greets you. Carmy smiles at you, as your hand comes up to rub comforting patterns over his shoulder and back. 

“Pete,” Nat begins again. “Carmy and I were just talking… about his name.”

“Oh yeah?” Pete asks, smiling hopefully as he exchanges a look with his wife. 

She nods, a full conversation happening between the new parents with just one look. Pete lets out a heavy exhale, smiling at his wife as Nat answers with:

“Yeah."

Carmy clears his throat, his arm closest to you squeezing you closer to him, gently leaning his head against your side in search of comfort. 

“What’d you decide on?” you ask curiously, the air seemingly tense with feeling. 

“Michael,” Sugar answers, exchanging a look with her brother this time. Carmy squeezes your hip, and as you search his face for a reaction, you can tell he's holding back tears.

“His name is Michael.”

[yannaryartside]

THE BERZATO IN-LAWS

an analysis in Sydney, Pete, Tiffany and Stevie

We have met the romantic interest/partners of the Berzattos, and I think the story is telling us something on why they are good to their partners, pariculary in they way they could help them heal from the toxic family dinamics they were raised on. And again, it comes all to food, Donna's food, in particular. Let me explain:

The Burden of Donna's food:

So, when you are feeding somebody, you provide care for them. Food is a metaphor for the biological need for feeding, but Donna never served bad food to her kids, she has decided to put emotion, time, and energy into preparing these meals. With food, she will prove her intentions to care for them. In preparing meals, her family will gather, and her sons and daughter will bond. But in this activity, and eating at the table, it will be the moment for Donna to punish them, to ridicule, gaslight, and hurt them. So her food is nutritious and poisonous at the same time.

So, I have noticed that in the Berzatto family, there are two types of people, the enablers/participants in keeping the family running the way it is (in the case of Carmy and Nat, they do it even when it doesn't benefit them, while everybody else benefits someway) and the other type is the non-conforming/change maker. This last category only can be applied to the inlaws: Sydney, Pete, Tiffany, and Stevie.

The Change makers/Inlaws:

Why do I call them non-cormorning? Because they are. Neither of these individuals is looking at the family dynamics in the Berzattos and says "Yeah, this is okay" Examples follow:

Sydney calling on everybody's bullshit on those first days of her working at the beef. She managed to fight the water with fire and turned everybody around.

Pete defending Carmy.

Tiffany calls Richie out for ruining the sweater she gave him, especially because Richie minimized to please Donna. She also calls them psychos.

Stevie talking about them calling him gay

None of them have a tendency to respond in an aggressive way toward conflict, if anything, they do righteously get angry and try to defend themselves but they never lower themselves to the level the aggression was made. They try to introduce kindness into the equation. The worst part, the show at times lets people describe them as "naive," "soft" and "too demanding" (Tiffany and Sydney), or shames them in other ways.

And you know what? all is symbolized in the way each reacts to Donna's food/system.

Sydney was able to take control of the kitchen without (and despite) toxic dynamics previously established. She is also trying to create a new menu with Carmy based on his mom's recipes. And the worst part? Carmy didn't co-create the menu with Sydney, he didn't let her (as far as we can see) modify the essence of Donna's recipes in the restaurant. If they had done it, maybe this food would have acquired something else for Carmy, a chance to heal the past trauma (metaphor).

Pete trying to collaborate with Christmas Dinner (bringing something new, kindness)

Tyffany not being able to eat Donna's food due to her pregnancy (she was already fed up and relieved to being far from them) which may be also a signal for her wanting to protect her baby from all that madness.

Stevie is the only one who insists on helping Donna to cook. He also is the only one who gives Nat the confort she asked for, not the one other thought she needs (Richie and Mickey for example).

[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.” 

[queer-whatchamacallit]

After several months of anticipation, I rewatched 1x05 “Sheridan”

Sydney tries to relive her mistakes over and over, so when she tries again, she feels like she won’t make any of them again. This is kinda similar to Carmy who relives his traumatic experiences, but tries to make the new situation healthier and one where he’s in control. They share this urge to surround themselves with what has hurt them

It’s pride month, so of course I have to mention Syd’s gay bedsheets and comforter <3

Syd did baseball! There’s a trophy on her desk.

The fact that Marcus watches shitty reality tv feels so right for him

Tina has been to a Berzatto family Christmas, and Carmy’s way of gaging whether she enjoyed it was whether his mom freaked out. Tina said “she wasn’t calm, but the food was great” and I don’t think I realized how much build up Donna got in s1

For just a couple scenes, Syd had a completely different scarf on? Not sure what’s up with that

Carm talking to Richie abt the coke is a good example of how he acts when he doesn’t have a task to do in addition to being stressed. He fidgets: grips the countertop, chews at the back of his lip, and paces, and he barely looks at Richie who’s sat right on front of him, mostly looking at the countertop or the ceiling. The only time he makes eye contact is when he wants to make sure he’s being heard

I think I’ve mentioned this in previous posts, but despite looking healthy and put together compared to the other Berzattos, Sugar still has her issues. She has the same temper they do, and considering Pete’s “you’re not pissed all the time” in 2x10, I think it definitely affects their marriage to some degree.

Nat’s complaints abt Carm are so true it’s funny like Yes! He really is a soft shitty bitch for being scared to talk to you because you try to make him face his problems! You’re so right, Nattie!!!

For as much as I talk about her flaws, I really do love her :]

It feels like there’s tomato cans everywhere this episode: on top of a shelf overlooking Marcus’ station, on the cinder blocks when they do the outdoor service, in the corner while Syd tells Carm about Sheridan. And funnily enough, I think they’re the big cans (blue top) instead of the small cans (green top)

I like to think Carmy picked up the words Rad and Gnarly from Michael because Mike would’ve grown up in the 80s and heard those terms a lot more, but you can’t tell me that Carmy wasn’t absolutely obsessed with tmnt as a kid

Also love Syd for absolutely rocking it when forced to think on her feet, she’s so smart and pretty wow <3

And the Carmy-Marcus mentorship strikes again! This time with Carmy’s deeply unhealthy outlook on his work!

I’m so obsessed with fire as symbolism for self-destruction in this show, never ever getting over his speech to Marcus. Also, he uses the pronoun “you” throughout it, implying that this is a completely normal healthy thought, and clearly when your restaurant’s on fire, of course, you’re going to want to let it burn to the ground, and that’s such a Carmy thing to think

When Carmy first comes in during that scene where he later helps Syd strain the stock, he’s holding onto the towels at his waist. He’s not moving them, he doesn’t take them off, he isn’t changing the position of his hands enough to actually be drying them, so there’s no other explanation! Bro is just stimming!!!

And I think that’s it! Waa I’ve missed doing these!

[zombster]

ONE MORE WEEK UNTIL MY FAVS COME HOME

[sydcarmyfan]

Pete will accidentally reveal Sydney’s new opportunity to Carmy

In s2, Pete accidentally told Donna that Nat was pregnant. In s3, I predict Pete will find out about Syd’s opportunity to work at Ever, and then during a conversation with Carmy, Pete will accidentally tell Carmy about it, which will lead to Carmy and Sydney’s ugly argument.

[drabbles-mc]

Behind

Carmen Berzatto & Pete

Written for @ashlingnarcos for Candy Hearts Exchange 2024 💝

Warnings: 18+, language, canon-typical chaos and angst, injury

Word Count: 6.7k

A/N: i'm so normal about them i promise me when i lie

The Bear Taglist: @garbinge @withmyteeth @hausofmamadas @narcolini @darqchilddaydreamz @justreblogginfics @fromirkwood (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

ONE.) With each minute that ticked by and he still found himself sitting in the row alone, Pete found the weight of disappointment lingering on his chest getting heavier and heavier. He wasn’t surprised, per se, but that didn’t wipe away the disappointment that he felt on Natalie’s behalf. While there were still some things about her family that he was figuring out, he assumed that they would at least show up for this. She didn’t ask them to show up for much, after all.

He looked around, wondering just how long he would be able to hold the three seats next to him for. He had his jacket draped over one, and was just politely telling people that the seats were reserved. It was looking more and more like a lie the longer that none of them showed up, though, and the room was quickly filling.

Just as he was about to reach across and grab his jacket, Carmy came flying in. Pete could feel the breeze come off of him from how quickly he’d been walking. He stood there at the end of the row of chairs, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. He looked back and forth between Pete and the empty seats beside him. Internally, Carmy groaned, but luckily, he managed to keep the sound contained to his head.

Shrugging, he asked in a hushed tone, “Where the fu—is it just you?”

Pete smiled, knowing that there was nothing else that he could really do to respond. “Uh, yeah, right now. But you’re here!” he added on cheerfully.

“Fuck me,” Carmy muttered under his breath.

“You heard, you know, from Mikey or your mom at all?”

Carmy shook his head, and while Pete didn’t hear the exact words that he said in the wake of that, he had a decent idea. He moved to slide into the row, so Pete pulled his legs in, trying to make himself as small as possible as Carmy slipped by him so that he could sit in one of the chairs that Pete had reserved for them all.

First, he looked at the jacket draped over one of the chairs, and then he looked back over at Pete. “Yours?”

“Yeah, just thought it’d be easier to save all the seats. If you want—”

He stopped himself when Carmy picked up the jacket and handed it back to him, sitting in the chair that it had just been covering. While it felt grossly apparent that they were going to be the only two in attendance, Carmy still left the two seats between them. To an outsider it looked like he was just holding the line, helping keep the seats empty. But he knew better. So did Pete, even though he didn’t say anything about it.

Pete saw the way that Carmy was fidgeting, fingers twitching and drumming against his leg. Trying to be helpful, Pete handed over the piece of cardstock that he had been holding onto. “Look,” he let Carmy take it from him, “they got Nat’s name on there and everything.”

Carmy’s brows met, equal parts focus and confusion. “What…what’s this all—” He stopped when he answered his own question, reading the printed words in front of him. Order of events, awards and recipients. And, just like Pete said, there was Natalie’s name spelled out in black and white. He didn’t think that they really did awards in Natalie’s line of work. But I guess even when it’s interest loans, dollars and cents, someone always has to be the best at it or close to it. Maybe he should’ve asked her more about it when she mentioned it the first time.

“Big week for you guys, huh?” Pete said, excitement in his tone.

Carmy’s eyes snapped up to him. “What?”

“Oh, you know,” Pete gestured to the slip of paper in Carmy’s hand as he leaned in an attempt to close the distance Carmy had left between them, “Nat and her award. You and culinary school.” He paused, waiting to see if Carmy was going to say anything. When he braced one hand on the seat of the chair beside him. “That’s pretty dope, dude. Nat was telling me about it and she’s—we’re both really stoked for you. Congrats.”

His face pinched, unsure of how he wanted to respond to that. “Yeah, yeah. Um. Thanks.”

“Where you going for that, anyway? Here or—”

Carmy made a dismissive motion, shushing him as the lighting in the room shifted, signaling the start of the ceremony. He was looking up at the front of the room, fingers twiddling still with the paper in his hands. He had been perfectly ready to not pay Pete any mind for the next, well, however long it was going to take to get through all of this. But then Pete was shuffling over and sitting in the chair right beside Carmy, no barrier or gap between them. Carmy felt his jaw clench involuntarily, but there was nothing to do about it now as Pete was balling up his jacket in his lap.

“She’s gonna be so happy you’re here,” Pete said, voice somewhere between a whisper and his regular talking voice. “She wanted to congratulate you in-person anyway.” He saw the confusion on Carmy’s face and Pete still smiled but there was a little bit of sadness in it. “Culinary school.”

Carmy’s voice came out soft, and not because he was trying to be courteous of what was going on around them. “Oh.”

“Hope you don’t mind I said it first,” he tried to joke, knowing as the words were coming out of his mouth that it was going to fall flat.

Shockingly enough, it got a flicker of a smile out of Carmy. “It’s fine.”

TWO.) There was so much noise in the house that he hardly heard any of it. It was deafening and yet none of it was really reaching his eardrums. Voices and music and times and dishes being thrown about. So many layers that it was impossible to piece through them all.  Carmy was fairly certain that he had gotten good at tuning it all out. Or maybe he’d finally just cracked under the weight of it all, knocked just enough screws loose to end up like the rest of his family.

It was impossible not to hear Donna. Laughing. Crying. Screaming. No matter what mood she was currently fluctuating through, she made sure that anyone and everyone around her heard her. No matter how many years went by or how hard he tried, Carmy wasn’t ever able to deafen himself to that. He listened to her fire off directions at him, ones that didn’t make any sort of sense but he’d still have to follow them exactly as she said them because it just wasn’t worth it to try and not to.

Carmy grit his teeth and got through it as best he could, the same way he did every year. Mikey was nowhere to be found, of course—probably deep in the house somewhere getting into an argument with Lee or getting dragged across the neighborhood by Richie. He and Natalie orbited around each other, occasionally crossing paths but never really letting one hand wash the other. The best they could do was suffer through it near each other.

He was elbow deep in the oven, switching around pans in the precise way that Donna had instructed him a few minutes before. He was staring directly into the oven, wishing for a brief moment that it would turn into a window that he could crawl out of so that he could get out of this fucking house.

The shrill sound of yet another timer going off snapped him out of his wishful thinking and he stood back upright, letting the oven door snap shut as he did.

He was grabbing a towel to wipe his hands with when he heard someone else besides his own mother. It was different. He wasn’t noticing it because the person was yelling, per se, which had him wondering how he heard anyone in that house on Christmas if they weren’t screaming at the top of their lungs. His brows drew together, ears burning when he realized that he heard it because someone was talking about him.

And of fucking course it was Pete.

Carmy didn’t have it in him to go and throw himself into the middle of whatever it was. He didn’t give enough of a damn about what Pete thought of him to really make that much of a fight about it. If Pete wanted to finally join in on the fun everyone else had at Carmy’s expense, then he could go and do just fucking that.

“No, you guys, seriously,” Pete said in a voice that was loud for him, but barely registered above a whisper on the Berzatto scale, “Food and Wine named him best new—”

“Fuck Food and Wine,” Richie interrupted with a laugh. “What, they say that Mr. New York Bigshot was the best new jagoff? Hate to break it to you, but,” he clapped Pete on the shoulder, “that ain’t new.”

Pete forged onward, not letting himself get derailed by Richie even though the man was a master of the art. “They named him Best New Chef,” he said earnestly.

Richie rolled his eyes. “Best new chef but he still can’t make the fuckin’ spaghetti.”

Pete ignored the laughs that Richie got with his comment. His voice was a little quieter now, but he still didn’t stop. “It’s a big deal.”

Carmy felt bad for his initial assumption. He should’ve known that Pete wouldn’t do that—he wasn’t wired like the rest of them. Pete probably wasn’t even the first one to bring Carmy up. It was probably Richie or Cicero. Pete was probably just coming to Carmy’s defense the only way he could think of, not that it did either of them any good. Carmy knew that he should say something to Pete. Maybe thank you? But that wasn’t how they were, wasn’t how Carmy was.

He looked out the kitchen doorway to find Pete already looking at him. He didn’t look defeated, really. No matter what anyone ever said to Pete it never seemed to deflate him or keep him down for long. Carmy lifted his eyebrows slightly, the only acknowledgment he could think up in the moment as another timer went off.

THREE.) Pete was sitting at the table, laptop open with countless emails left to open and respond to, and yet he wasn’t paying any of them any mind. They were left ignored in another tab, number ticking upwards slowly the longer he avoided it. Instead, he found himself reading, and then rereading, the latest article that had been published about the restaurant that Carmy was currently working at. He’d been corrected before, ruthlessly, by Mikey and Richie whenever he referred to it as Carmy’s Restaurant, but like many things it never really was enough to deter him.

It felt like there was always another article or another announcement coming out about Carmy, about his restaurant. And, sure, maybe he wasn’t completely tapped into the restaurant scene like Carmy was, maybe he wasn’t up to that caliber. But he still tried to keep an eye out, and it seemed like every time he went looking there was always something to find.

He was in the house alone, but it didn’t stop him from letting out an impressed chuckle as he read through yet another article on how one of the youngest new chefs on the scene managed to raise the caliber of an already-stellar restaurant in New York City. Praise like that would mean a lot no matter where Carmy was working, but being able to stand out against all of the static and noise, the sheer number of restaurants that were in the city, it just drove the point home even further of how great of a chef Carmy really was. All the sacrifice seemed to be paying itself off, at least from what Pete could see.

Scrolling back up to the top of the page, Pete left it so that the article headline was in the center of his laptop screen. Picking his phone up off the table, he swiped and opened the camera. Paying no mind to the fact that it was nearly impossible to get a good and clear picture of a computer screen with a phone camera, Pete snapped a picture of the article open on his laptop screen. The smile stayed on his face the entire time as he opened up the text conversation that he had with Carmy. He didn’t pay any mind to how long it’d been since the last time one of them texted the other, or that all of their previous conversations were never initiated by Carmy.

He sent the picture attached to a message of, “Feel like I should set a Google alert for you or something man. Congratulations! Proud of you”. There was a faint whoosh sound of it being sent, and Pete gave a satisfied nod before setting his phone back down on the table again. He looked at the headline taking up his web browser one more time, smiling before clicking out of the tab. He left it lingering there while he went and finally started to pluck away at the emails waiting his attention.

It was about an hour later when Pete’s phone chimed. He angled it off the table just enough to see what the notification was, excited when he saw Carmy’s name on the screen. Expanding the notification, his smile dimmed but only slightly when he read the message in full, “Carmy liked “Feel like I should set a…””

Unlocking his phone, Pete brought himself right to the text message thread. He looked at the little thumbs-up that now appeared in the corner of the message he’d sent. Tapping on the message bar, he went to start typing again only to be met with the three little grey bubbles. He stopped, backspacing what little he’d just typed out, only for the bubbles to go away again. He waited, contemplating starting up another message. They did the same dance one more time before Pete locked and set his phone down, giving Carmy the opportunity to type out whatever it was that he wanted to say, even if he wasn’t ever going to hit send.

FOUR.) “I’m just sayin’,” Mikey started, trying to make it all sound like a joke even though there were layers of real frustration underneath, “of fuckin’ course Pete is the one who gets to see you at your big fancy fuckin’ restaurant.”

Carmy stopped what he was doing, confusion flooding over his face. Looking up from the braciole he was trying to help Mikey prep, he tried to figure out what the fuck his brother was talking about. “Wh-what the fuck are you talking about?”

Mikey laughed, snatching the meat that was laid out in front of Carmy so he could finish prepping it himself. He was willing to compromise and get together at Natalie’s place, but he wasn’t going to sacrifice all of his prep, too. “Fuck you, what am I talkin’ about. Talking about fuckin’ New York!”

Carmy didn’t know if he was more confused or angry at this point. Angry because he was confused. “Pete was never in fucking New—”

“Yeah,” Natalie finally spoke up, her tone showing just how much she hadn’t wanted this to come up, “he was.”

Carmy threw out a vague gesture with his hand. “When the fuck was he in New York?”

Natalie was taking a deep breath, getting ready to try and get a word in edge-wise about any of it. Carmy was going to have all these questions and he wasn’t going to wait for the answers to any of them. She hated it despite knowing it was something that they all had in common. She was leaning back against the kitchen counter, just about to spit out the first word of it, when the front door opened and a new voice came onto the scene.

“Happy Sunday, everybody!” Pete called out cheerfully as he made his way through the house.

He arrived at the kitchen, blissfully unaware of the look on Carmy’s face. He would get around to paying Carmy and Mikey some attention in a moment, but his first-stop-shop was always Natalie. A hug and a kiss. She didn’t say anything because she knew that she didn’t have to. Her brother would take care of that for her.

Pete finally turned to Carmy and Mikey. “Hey, guys, what’s—”

“When the fuck were you in New York?” Carmy jumped right down his throat.

Pete’s eyes popped open wider. “What?”

Carmy nodded towards his sister. “Sugar said you were in New York? Came, came to my fuckin’ restaurant? What the fuck?”

“Oh, uh, I didn’t, um, hm.” Pete knew that he hadn’t really done anything wrong, but he also knew that it wasn’t a simple situation. It was why he hadn’t said anything to Carmy about it before or after the fact.

Mikey was getting a kick out of all of it. “C’mon, Petey, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“It just—”

Carmy didn’t let the third word make it out. “I don’t get—you didn’t say anything? How, how long ago was that? How many times have I seen you since then?”

Pete blew out a puff of air, still trying to formulate his answer to one question at a time. “I was in New York for work,” he said, a little surprised he was able to get a whole sentence out without an interruption. “They wanted to do dinner after a meeting so—”

Two sentences in a row would’ve been too much, apparently. Carmy was a reactive dog pulling angrily at the end of his leash. “When the fuck was that?”

The gears in Pete’s brain jammed up for a moment, unable to recall the answer to such a straight-forward question. “Um, I—”

Natalie was the one interrupting this time, coming to Pete’s defense. “Maybe if you called and asked what any of us were up to, Bear, you’d fucking know when he was there.”

Carmy’s face scrunched as he flinched, like Natalie had tried to swat at him. “What? What the—” He motioned aggressively at Pete. “He comes to my fuckin’ restaurant and he couldn’t call? Or you?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t say that like you would’ve picked up.”

Pete’s eyes were darting back and forth, watching each verbal volley as it flew back and forth across the court between his wife and his brother-in-law. This time it felt like a bit more of an even match, maybe that was just because Pete was the guaranteed underdog. He couldn’t help but to look over at Mikey, who was apparently perfectly content to split his attention between prep and listening to his siblings bicker back and forth. He was shaking his head at the both of them, chuckling quietly as it went in one ear and out the other.

Pete’s eyes snapped back to Carmy at the harsh sound of his voice. “Well?”

He figured there was no use trying to repeat himself. If he was only going to get one sentence out at a time, he figured he should try to make it count rather than retracing what he’d already said. He tried not to think too much about the pinch of Carmy’s brows, a harshness that didn’t quite line up with the confusion that was all over the rest of his face.

“They were looking for a place to eat—we’d just closed a big deal. I knew your place would be good so…” he trailed off, not expecting to be able to actually finish his next sentence. “I just suggested it. I said that the chef was Food and Wine’s—”

Carmy’s head dropped back so that he was looking up at the ceiling. “God fucking dammit.”

“I didn’t say I knew you,” Pete offered up, wondering if that would do anything to come to his own defense. “They didn’t ask so I didn’t…If they knew they would’ve made you come out. So I didn’t.”

The anger on his face lessened but only slightly. His confusion was winning out for the moment. “Wh-why?”

The quiet laugh that slipped out of him was completely involuntary. The question itself wasn’t funny, necessarily, but he found himself letting out the laugh at how obvious the answer was. Carmy was so smart, Pete just thought they’d all instantly be on the same page about it despite the fact that he and Carmy hadn’t been on the same page about anything in the entire time they’d known each other.

He made a small gesture to all three siblings. “You guys hate it when people interrupt you in the kitchen. You get, you know,” he a narrowing motion with his hands, “in the zone.”

Carmy didn’t have an instant rebuttal for that. He stood there, annoyance on his face even though Pete had extended a kindness to him back then, and in a lot of ways continued to extend it every time that he didn’t bring it up. It wasn’t as though he was the one that Carmy wanted to talk to about those kinds of things. He wasn’t the one that Carmy wanted there, not really, but he was the one who had made it regardless.

There was a soft, knowing smile on Natalie’s face as she looked at Pete. The two of them had talked about it beforehand, they’d talked about it after. She knew exactly why Pete did what he’d done. Even if Carmy never wanted to take the time to be grateful for any of it, she was grateful on his behalf.

After a few tense seconds of silence, Pete spoke up again, speaking honestly because that was the only way he knew how. “It was really good, Carm. Like,” he chuckled softly, “really, really good.”

Carmy was stunned but was still trying to figure out a way to respond to what Pete had just said. He opened his mouth, unsure about whatever was going to come out when he finally got himself to make a sound. Everything in his internal hardwiring had him gearing up for a snippy comeback, something sarcastic and largely undeserved. For the first time in a long time, possibly ever, he found himself fighting against the instinct. He was trying to conjure up something that was positive, but he’d settle for something neutral.

He was taking a breath in, about to just force something out and hope for the best, when Mikey decided it was time for him to chime in again. “You’re right, Pete,” he started, pausing longer than needed knowing exactly what it was going to cause to race through Carmy’s mind, pausing just long enough for him to get his hopes up before continuing on with, “we all fuckin’ hate it when people interrupt us in the kitchen.” He looked over at Pete, a smile on his face that didn’t quite reflect in his eyes. “So let us get back to work here, will ya?”

“Yeah, yeah sure.” He made sure to give Natalie a kiss before making his way back out of the kitchen. “Do your thing,” he said, not a drop of malice in his voice as he went off to keep himself busy elsewhere.

FIVE.) It was just supposed to be dinner. Carmy was back in Chicago and in the midst of everything else, they were just going to try and have dinner. In the back of her head, Natalie knew that it probably wasn’t going to just be dinner. There was no just anything in their family. But she had to try—who would she be if she didn’t? It was nothing short of a miracle that Carmy agreed to show up in the first place, so there was no backing out of it at that point even if the endeavor was ill-fated from the start.

Someone should’ve had a stopwatch on-hand to see just how little time elapsed before things descended into arguing. Pete watched from the outskirts, not offering up his two cents since no one had asked for it. Natalie and Carmy were going at it as they both took care of things on the stove, which was stressful in and of itself. Sharp remarks and sharper knives.

“You all wanted me to fuckin’ come home,” Carmy said, exasperated. “And, and here I am. Still not fuckin’ good enough.”

“I didn’t say—”

“You didn’t have to! You didn’t have to fuckin’ say it. You’re pissed about the funeral, pissed about the restaurant,” he gestured to the pan that was sitting on top of the stove, “pissed I’m trying to help you fuckin—”

She held up her hand. “You’re not trying to help, okay? You’re just doing the same thing the two of you always do. You’re—”

“Who?”

“You and Mikey!”

Once she put the words out there, the air in the kitchen became twenty times heavier. Carmy stood there, stunned into silence. For a moment he couldn’t even try to stammer out a reply, too thrown by the reference to Mikey in the present, like he was there and about to walk into the kitchen to hijack her cooking plans. Like he was there, and that Carmy was like him.

Sugar raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to speak up, to fire back and keep it all going. When he didn’t utilize the couple extra seconds that she gave him, she scoffed. She tossed the fork in her hand onto the counter, the clatter of it the only other sound aside from the sizzling pan on the stove.

“You know what? Fine. You can cook it. You can cook it and you can go fuck yourself, Carm.” She shook her head and turned on her heel to exit the kitchen. She saw Pete in her peripheral as she made her way out. She wouldn’t have had to see him at all to know that he was going to try and say something to make things better, smooth them over like there was any possibility of that at this point. She waved him off before he could even think of the right words to say. “And fuck you too.”

He watched after her as she walked away, but he didn’t follow. He knew that she needed some time and space to be pissed off. Then, once she spit bullets for a little while, they would come back together and they would talk about it. At least, that’s how it worked when it was just the two of them. Carmy being there changed the playing field and Pete wasn’t sure how just yet.

Pete went from watching Natalie to watching Carmy, who at first was also staring at the space where Natalie had just been. He only lingered on it for a moment before the increasing volume from the stovetop rediverted his attention. He turned back, grabbing the fork that Natalie had discarded just moments before. He shook his head as he went back to cooking. He was in no mood to let the evening and the food both go to shit.

There was about twenty seconds between Carmy turning back to the stove and Pete walking over so that he was beside Carmy, leaning against the counter that was kitty corner to it. Twenty seconds didn’t sound like a long time until it was spent in silence staring at the back of Carmy’s head as he continued to cook. It almost would’ve seemed like he was trying to get things back to normal if he hadn’t been shaking his head and muttering something under his breath. Pete couldn’t quite make out what he was saying as he walked over, not that it would’ve really made much of a difference either way.

Pete let his fingers curl around the edge of the counter as he leaned back against it. He saw it when Carmy caught him out of the corner of his eye and made a point not to say anything. Instead, he stayed busy keeping his eyes locked on the pan in front of him, keeping the sauteed garlic and onions inside it moving just enough so that they wouldn’t burn.

Knowing that Carmy could stand there in silence much longer than he could, Pete decided to break the stalemate. “It’s just been—”

“Don’t,” Carmy tried to stop him before he really got started. “You, you don’t gotta try and fuckin’, explain or apologize for her or whatever. Sugar…she can do it herself.”

“I’m not apologizing,” Pete said simply, not aggressive or defensive. Even if he wanted to be, he knew that it wasn’t going to get him anywhere with the man standing in front of him. He saw the disbelieving look on Carmy’s face even with the honesty. “I’m not. I’m just saying…it’s been a lot. And she’s been alone. Like, she has me but—”

“Yeah, she has you. She’s not fuckin’ alone.”

Pete didn’t let the bite in Carmy’s tone break the skin. “She’s felt really alone because of all of it. But I’m sure, you know, I’m sure you’ve felt alone too.”

Carmy clenched his jaw, anger dangerously close to boiling over. “Pete, I’m telling you, just, just shut the fuck up. I’m not talking about this with you.”

“I’m just saying,” Pete repeated, eyes fixed on Carmy’s profile. “You both lost him. And it wasn’t easy, and I know that’s probably why you didn’t come to—”

“Stop!” Carmy snapped, throwing the fork not unlike Natalie had a couple minutes before. “It’s, it’s not your fuckin’ problem, Pete, alright? You, you don’t know fuckin’ shit about—”

“I’m not saying I do, but Carm—”

There was something about the heartfelt nature behind Pete’s words that felt almost saccharine, like they left a sugary residue across Carmy’s teeth. Genuine concern was so rare to come by in their family, expressed so blatantly at least, that it felt like just a different type of trap. It didn’t matter that Pete had no history of laying traps, of pulling the rug out from underneath anyone. The warmth in the way Pete said his name felt scalding.

Carmy was white-knuckling the handle of the frying pan in his hand. “I’m not doing this with you right now, with, with either of you.” He saw the way Pete drew in a breath, prepping to try and say something else understanding and comforting and he didn’t want that, didn’t know how to handle that. All the feelings and thoughts finally bubbled over. “He wasn’t your fuckin’ brother, so it’s not your fuckin’ problem!”

Without thinking, Carmy thrust the pan out of his hand, sending it clattering against the stove and slightly onto the counter from the force. The contents and oil splattered everywhere—around the burners, across the countertops, and, unfortunately, onto Pete’s arm. He hissed, cursing under his breath from the pain, but all Carmy could do was stand there and watch, frozen all over again as Pete threw the faucet on and ran cold water over his arm.

The loud clatter was what drew Natalie back to the kitchen, anger still clear on her face. “What the fuck—oh my god!” It took her no time at all to put together what had happened in her absence. She looked at her husband, taking a brief look at his arm, “Pete, I—” Her anger won out over her worry as she whipped back around to Carmy. “Get the fuck out.” She didn’t yell, but her voice was harsh, filled to the brim with anger like she was a pressure cooker on the brink of exploding. “Now. Get the fuck out of my house right now.”

Carmy was in no mood or headspace to argue. He also didn’t realize that he was even making his way towards the door, his body moving independently from his mind. Mentally he was still staring at the mess across Natalie’s counter and stove, mentally he was still back in New York getting a phone call saying that his brother died, mentally he was trapped in Donna’s house on Christmas with a dozen relatives breathing down his neck about why he didn’t come home more often. Then suddenly he was standing outside on Natalie’s doorstep getting slammed by a cold gust of wind.

Inside, Natalie pulled Pete’s arm out from underneath the stream of water so that she could get a better look at it. “That little fucking…” she trailed off, shaking her head like she couldn’t decide just what name she felt like calling him in that moment when so many applied.

“It’s fine,” Pete said, the wince in his expression instantly negating the statement.

“It’s not fine.”

“It was just a lot for everyone, that’s all. I’ll just,” he shrugged as Natalie pushed his arm back under the water, “go to Urgentcare. They’ll take care of it for me and it’ll be alright. They’ll probably just give me—”

“This wasn’t okay,” she said, eyes glued to Pete’s arm. “None…none of this is okay.”

Pete frowned as Natalie leaned against him. Letting out a breath, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his arm, he let his head drop so that he could place a kiss against the top of her head.

ONE.) Pete stood outside the door to The Bear, manilla folders gripped tightly in his hand. It was the one thing that Natalie said he could actually do for her in that moment to make her life easier. He’d do anything if she asked, and this seemed on the surface to be a simple errand. And yet he was still hesitating out on the sidewalk.

Tucking the folders under his arm, he reached and pulled the restaurant door open. The eating area was empty so early in the day, and Pete knew that it would be but it still felt strange to see it that way. He couldn’t remember if he had ever been inside there outside business hours. They never really needed him to be.

He could see through the thin strip of window that there were people already prepping in the kitchen. He didn’t see Carmy among them, and he knew that he was most likely going to have to walk through the kitchen to get to him at the office. He’d never set foot in the back of the house, not when it was The Beef, and not since it had become The Bear either. It seemed silly to harp on but it mattered. He knew it mattered.

Nervous or not he had to go in and drop off paperwork for Natalie. She’d taken care of everything, and all Carmy had to do was put a signature on them and hand them off to the guy when he showed up. And all Pete had to do was hand them off to Carmy since Natalie was too pregnant and too exhausted to think about getting out of bed and putting real shoes on her very achy and swollen feet. After another round of trying to keep her breakfast down and not being able to, Pete asked what he could do, and she said that if he could play mailman for the day that would be super fucking helpful, actually. So, there he was.

He let himself into the kitchen, almost tip-toeing even though that didn’t really make much of a difference about anything. He didn’t recognize some of the chefs that were there. If they said their names, he would probably know them based off stories that Natalie told him, but other than that they were just strangers to him.

He couldn’t hide the relief when he saw Tina. He walked over closer to her, stopping so that he wasn’t so close that he would throw her off what she was doing. “T—hey, Tina.”

Turning, her confusion morphed into a smile when she looked at him. “Hey, Pete. What are you doing here? Natalie okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah she’s good. Just,�� he chuckled with a smile, “pregnant. Like, super pregnant.”

Tina laughed. “I remember that.”

Clearing his throat, Pete asked, “Is, uh, is Carmy around? I got,” he held up the folders, “these for him.”

She nodded in the direction of the office. “He’s back there.”

“Thank you. Keep, uh, keep up the good work,” he offered with a smile.

Tina chuckled, shaking her head affectionately at him as he walked away. “We will.”

The door to the office was open, but Pete still knocked against it anyway. Carmy looked up from the papers that he was staring at, already saying, “Yeah?” before he saw who it was in the doorway. When he saw it was Pete, his exhaustion shifted, turning to equal parts tiredness and confusion. “Pete?”

“Hey,” he said, almost stepping into the office before he stopped himself. “Can I?”

Carmy nodded, motioning for him to come in as he turned in the chair so that he was facing Pete head-on. “What’s up?”

“Nat said that you needed these?” He held the folders out for him to take, only continuing once he did so. “Said that the guy was supposed to be coming by today.”

Carmy flipped them open, nodding in recognition as he read the forms. “Right, right. Fuck. Thank, thank you.” He looked back up at Pete. “Sugar alright?”

Pete shrugged with a nod that was as noncommittal as he could manage. “Yeah, I mean, you know, she’s—”

“Super pregnant and fuckin’ hormonal and angry?”

Pete smiled and shook his head. “Very pregnant. Very uncomfortable.”

“Kicked you out of the house for the day?”

“I offered.”

“To leave?” Carmy asked in jest.

Pete cracked a small grin but he still corrected Carmy. “To help.”

Carmy drummed his fingers on the folders. “Very helpful, yes. Thank you.”

Pete motioned over his shoulder with his thumb. “First time seeing the kitchen. You guys are, like, the real deal back here.”

Carmy chuckled, a sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue that he managed to bite back. “Working on it.” He paused, staring at the black and white print of the forms but not really reading any of it. “How’s it compare to New York?” he asked.

“What?”

“You’re the only one who’s been to both of my restaurants, so,” he looked up at Pete, “how’s it compare to New York?”

It was the first time that Carmy ever brought up the fact that Pete went to his spot in the city. Pete didn’t think that he was ever going to bring it up again, let alone bring it up so casually. It caught him off-guard and it almost felt like a trick. This was a question that definitely had a wrong and a right answer.

Pete chose his words carefully. “You worked at your spot in New York and it was great. But this,” he gestured to the office and the space beyond it, “this is yours, you know? It’s your spot. And you can…you can tell.”

Carmy allowed himself to smile, allowed himself to take the compliment. He forced himself not to twist Pete’s words in his head. “Glad you can tell.”

A beat passed before Pete spoke up again. “Need me to tell Natalie anything or…?”

Carmy shook his head. “No, no. No, I think we’re, uh, I think we’re all good. Thank you.”

“Sure thing.” Pete nodded as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his vest. “I’ll just, uh, let myself—”

He spoke up when he saw Pete take a step backwards towards the doorway. “Hey, Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks…thanks for this. For this and um, you know, always, always taking care of Sugar.” He paused as he nodded, like he was trying to come up with kind words to say to him, a foreign act. “We’re all, uh, she’s really lucky to have you, you know?”

Pete heard it all, what he did and didn’t say. His smile stretched wider. “Thanks, Carm.”