Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The cage has never been empty before.

Carmy advanced on it slowly anyway. The rusty steel bars held nothing inside of them. The cage sat abandoned on the bridge, no remnants of the animal it once contained.

It’s never been empty. The bear has never been gone.

When Carmy finally reached the cage, he dropped to his knees in front of the useless metal box. Feeling a swell of emotions he had no idea how to parse through.

Relief. Rage. Disgust. Sorrow. Pride. Loneliness.

Then he felt nothing. Then for a few seconds everything came back just to leave again.

Loneliness.

Suddenly the noise wasn’t just in his mind. Loud growls emanate from everywhere. There was no way to tell where it came from, just a constant guttural screech of a monster in the shadows.

And for some reason, Carmy doesn’t feel scared. Because the growling is loud but nowhere near him. And they sound almost…pained? Desperate? A sharp wail of agony. Carmy has never heard anything like it. 

He didn’t know what to do. He started to scream back.

Richie broke every road rule known to man to get to the hospital. Fak kept yelling at him to slow the fuck down from the passenger seat in between calling everyone.

Tina and Marcus were already on their way. Ebra and Sweeps said they’d look after the Bear while demanding to be updated when anything changed. Sugar’s in the ambulance but isn’t answering any texts. Richie let himself believe that was good, that she was focusing on Sydney and things were happening that were probably good things.

“Fuck!” Fak threw his phone on the dashboard. “Carm’s still not answering.” 

Richie felt for his phone in his sweats without looking, pulling it up and pressing Bear’s name. Richie got more pissed at every ring he heard until he got the voicemail. Richie slammed his phone into the door mirror and put more pressure on the gas.

“You have to chill!” Fak tried to grab his arm and Richie shrugged him off, in no mood to be calmed down.

“Where the fuck is that little…” 

“Maybe he’s still asleep.”

“Motherfucker never sleeps.” Richie muttered his hands squeezed the steering wheels so tight his knuckles turned white. 

“He’ll see our messages any minute, he’s probably on his way.” Fak sounded in no way confident but after their last 45 minutes of absolute hell he’d rather live in some optimism. Richie didn’t seem to want to join him.

“She was cold, man.” Richie meant to scream that but his voice broke and he slammed his hand on the wheel to keep from breaking down. “Too fucking cold.”

When they finally got the door open, Richie was prepared to find nothing. To have Sydney come in minutes later all pissed that the walk in door was even more fucked and explaining she just left her shit here and all was well. He’d clown on Sugar for over it, in the new friendly and professional Richies was but still. And he thought he was right, the room was dark and looked empty at first. 

But he was an idiot. His counselor kept getting on his ass about internalizing negative shit but Richie still thought it. He smiled like one until Sugar and Fak were running in there and crouching down to a pile of something on the floor all panicked. 

“Holy shit.”

That couldn’t be Sydney, he thought. In his eyes, Sydney always took up attention and space without even meaning to. Annoying and nitpicky as all hell but in a way that told you she knew best because she usually did. That girl stabbed him once upon a time. That body was still and too little and crouched in a ball.

Sugar was on her phone. Fakk was frantically looking for a pulse, waving Richie over for help because he couldn’t find one. Richie moved on autopilot, kneeling down and searching her wrist. He didn’t know skin could feel like that, like some slab of beef they’d get delivered everyday. A person shouldn’t feel like that. 

Richie couldn’t find a pulse and almost passed out. Fak eventually found one on her neck and Sugar assured them the ambulance was coming. The 8 minutes they all sat around Sydney’s seemingly lifeless body, piling on all their coats while Sugar held her to his chest felt like a day.

“She’ll be alright.” Fak said, bringing him back to himself. “She’ll be all good and everyone will be there and…and we’ll be good.”

“Her dad didn’t sound okay.” Richie replied remembering his short call to him after tearing apart the office to find her emergency contact info. It’s like her dad knew something was very wrong the moment he answered. Rambling, kinda like Syd, about Sugar’s weird call and demanding to know where Sydney was. He wasn’t angry, he just needed to know. And Richie had to tell him.

Would Richie know something like that if anything ever happened to Eva? How would he react? He swallowed bile at the thought. He can’t do this. He can’t lose someone else. And his cousin…he would fall apart. 

Where the fuck was that prick?

Carmy rarely wakes up screaming. 

Sweating, confused, agitated and scared over his nightmares but never screaming. It was the only time when he was awake that he was quiet. He even mumbles out loud notes on his recipes to himself during his smoke breaks. As much as Carmy wanted the quiet, he truly didn’t know what to do with in any way.

But this morning was different. He woke up on his bed, still his jeans from yesterday and his throat killed him. His throat had long since been trained to handle the volume of speaking and screaming that came with his job but now it stung like it was his first service on tickets. His head felt like and had been put in a vice grip all night. He desperately wanted water and hoped he wasn’t sick. 

He had things to do today. His mind was still parsing through what exactly those things were but he knew they were important. Carmy crawled out of his sheets into his bathroom trying to pull it all together.

Carmy’s memory has always been kinda fucked. The few memories of his childhood that stayed were his mom yelling at him for forgetting everything and accusing him of doing it on purpose. He was shit at school, he listened but couldn’t recall anything. Most of his teachers gave up pretty quickly, the ones that kept trying kept recommending learning methods to his mom which she refused to do because she didn’t want the neighbors knowing he was “special”. Carmy knew back then it wasn’t a good special.

But for some reason, food stuck with him. He could recall recipes and ingredients and dish preparations easier than he knew how to breathe at times. Cooking wasn’t just all he was good at, it was the only thing that made his mind work.

Part of him hated that he couldn't apply that to other important shit in his life. He had been late to Sugar’s wedding because he forgot his flight's departure time and let Richie and Mikey tell everyone it was because he thought he was too good for everyone. 

To do lists and phone reminders were useless. They only reminded him how useless he was after the fact.

Everything that happened with his career and Mikey did not help at all. He’s read stuff on trauma. He forgot what exactly is supposed to be the point you feel healed but Mikey’s death still felt like yesterday.

Carmy jugged water from the tap and sat on his toilet, trying to quiet his mind. 

He thought of a clear and pristine voice reminding him of who he is and what he is capable of. Of small and careful hands adjusting plates of risottos into perfection. The scent of coconut shampoo breaking through any smell of the kitchen.

Sydney. Fuck . He had so much to do. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Carmy counted ten slow breaths before he could stand again. He had such to do. He didn’t even know the time.

Where was his phone?

Emmanuel Adamu never took prayer that seriously. 

As a boy he’d go through the motions whenever his mother and father dragged him to Sunday school and church. They were the only place he would see all his cousins so he didn’t mind, but he just didn’t get prayer. He thought it was weird to talk to God, he thought someone that important would have a lot more to do than to listen to some kid. 

In adulthood, he stopped going to church and didn’t think of it much anymore. A lot of guys from his neighborhood stopped going. And then he met the woman who became his new religion and gave him the miracle that was their daughter. 

And he had lost her. He didn’t pray for her before or after. He just held her in that hospital bed and told her all about Sydney’s day at daycare and how smart she was until it was over. And then all he could truly care for was his babygirl.

Hypoxia and hypothermia. 

That is what the doctors told him when he arrived at the hospital in his pajamas. He was led to a hospital room that looked like the last one he had been in when he lost half of his world.

There she was. She looked younger, smaller and greyer than she ever had. He went to her beside, taking her hand in his and he hasn't released it since the nurses and doctors left them alone. 

They tried to tell him she was stable and she didn’t lose any fingers or toes. That she was young and strong and had good chances. That she was reacting well to the warming saline IV pumping through her blood. That she would probably wake up soon.

But the next couple of days would be crucial to her recovery so she would be staying here.

He stroked her cheek gently. If she was awake she’d push his hand away, rolling her eyes at the childish gesture. Sydney was a girl that was grown long before she had to be. He had tried to calm the growing anxieties he felt in her as she grew up before him but he never felt like enough. Even now, he was just sitting here willing all the warmth and air in his body into hers through his hands and he didn’t feel like enough.

Emmanuel had gotten two calls that morning. One from Natalie that made him scared, then from Richie that made him petrified. He felt like he hadn't moved yet at all.

A knock sounded through the room and he broke his gaze away for only a second before returning it,

“How did you get in here?” No malice in his voice, just genuine curiosity. This woman, Tina he thinks back to his daughter's description of her, couldn’t look away from Sydney as well. She was in a puffer jacket over a pressed apron just like his baby girl always wore. He knew all her friends from work were here, but all he wanted to do when he arrived was see her.

“Nurse said only family could come in, and told them I was her momma.” He smiled in his mind at the determination. “Hope you don’t mind, thought you could use this–” She revealed two steaming cups of coffee. “And some company. We are all in the waiting room, I just kept thinking of you here all alone.”

He only nodded and stretched his face to resemble a smile. They sat in comfortable silence as they listened to the sounds of Chicago outside the window.

“Your baby is something else. I ain’t gonna lie, I gave her some hell when we first met. But she somehow brought heaven out in me. In all of us really. I know you don’t know us but I hope you know how strong you raised this one.” She said out loud while still only looking at Sydney.

He didn’t know how to respond, never felt like he was responsible for the amazing woman she became. 

“Ms. Marrero–” He started.

“Tina or T, please.” She cut him off and he smiled for real.

“Tina, do you go to church much?”

“Every Sunday.” She replied without missing a beat.

“Think you could help me pray, I’m a bit out of practice.” He asked honestly, hoping he wasn;t being too forward.

“I’d love to.” And she took one of his hands in hers.

Vibrations have been reverberating through Carmy’s space the last ten minutes. Made his search for his phone finally end in between his couch cushions.

Claire’s face and contact took up the screen and he answered immediately hoping he wasn’t late for a brunch or some shit.

“Hey sorry I lost–”

“Shit Carm, are you okay? What happened, I missed Nat’s first few calls but I–” Her voice never sounded so frantic before, he could barely keep up.

“Wait, slow down, what’s going on? Why was Sugar calling you?” Fuck, was it the baby? Was Sugar in labor and trying to call him. He put Claire on speaker, seeing the thousand notifications on his home screen for the first time.

The last text was from Riche that read WHERE THE FUCK R U?!!?.

He was sure it was Sugar and that maybe he was already an uncle and a shitty one at that. Claire is still talking and he was trying to listen while looking for his shoes and car keys.

“Where’s Sugar, is she okay? Is Pete there yet?” He said, tripping his way out the door.

“Sugar? What no, Carmy it's Sydney! Something happened!” Suddenly Claire’s voice is gone again.

Sydney. 

It’s Sydney .

And something happened. 

Carmy threw up stomach acid in a bush outside his apart building before getting in his car.

Carmy shot through the ER entrance like a mad man searching for anyone to tell me where she was.

There were so many other people around. People he didn’t know, who he couldn’t demand answers from. Then he saw his people. Sugar, Richie, Marcus and Fak. All gathered together in the corners of the waiting room looking exhausted.

He has so much to say, so much to ask but everytime he opens his mouth it's like all the air escapes him. He felt like his legs were stone. It was one thing to hear it from Claire, but seeing them all here made it real.

Then his sister saw him.

His still very pregnant sister stood herself up from her chair and strode over to him fast. He opened his arms on instinct prepared for her hug. Hoping it’ll fix him enough to handle this.

Her hands meet his face and chest over and over again.

“Where the well were you!? It’s been fucking hours!” She screeched as his cheeks reddened from her slaps. Marcus and Fak ran across the room to hold her back but she was fighting them off. People in the waiting room turned to watch them. “What’s wrong with you! What the fuck Bear, you fucking–” 

He made no move to stop her. Sugar has been annoyed at him before. Been angry and exhausted a few times. But until now, he had truly thought she had been spared from the family rage that was embedded in them. He was wrong.

She finally gets pulled back. And Carmy see’s everyone avoiding looking at him.

“The fuck happened?!” Carmy found the anger in him too. He’d let them all kill him for not being here later. 

When no one answered him, he wanted to throw something. 

They all looked conflicted. Like telling him how she got hurt or sick would just make it worse. Even Sugar seemed to calm down enough to throw him some pity.

He hasn’t looked at his phone since he left his place. Claire gave him the hospital Sydney was taken to and that's all he needed to know. He now wished he thumbed through a few of their texts to get a better handle on things.

Was it a mugging? Sydney always traveled on her own. If she had been attacked by some scumbag–

“Hey there, are you alright?” An older lady in scrubs touched his shoulder from his side. There was a star pattern on her scrubs and she patted his shoulder softly. She led him to another corner. He followed without a fight.

“These things can be emotional but just know right now, your friend is doing better. Hypothermia sounds scary but her odds—”

“What the fuck do you mean?” A voice in his mind told him not to swear or raise his voice at strangers, especially nice ones that were just trying to help. But she just said the word hypothermia and that clashed with every other possibility in his mind. It was barely Autumn, how the fuck did she almost freeze to death?! The lady took his angry concern in stride.

“Well I was informed by the other people here that she was in the fridge all night. Something about the door malfunctioning.”

Maybe most of the crew expected a biblical meltdown when he finally put 2 and the thousand reminders he had been given about getting the door fixed together. The realization stirred in my mind like poison.

He saw them from his periphery, easing closer to him like a trapped animal. People were talking to him. Someone was trying to touch him.

Richie didn’t do that. Richie walked away from them down a random hallway. Maybe he knew Carmy would follow, maybe he didn’t. But Carmy had lost all sensation. All his thoughts crashed together. He didn’t have anything else to throw up.

So he followed his cousin.

The others knew better than to follow.

Carmy was led outside where he watched Richie smoke.

He didn’t have his own pack on him and Richie didn’t offer one of his own, so he stood there watching him. Watched the smoke bleed into the air every time he exhaled. Flicking the burned end off onto the ground. The cig disappeared slowly but steadily.

Carmy used to think if Mikey died hating him. Or at least not wanting him. 

Sydney isn’t dead, as far as he knows now, but he doesn’t have to wonder about her.

He truly figured when he finally destroyed his life it would be through fire. Burning down the restaurant in a dissociative episode. Burning his hands in a runaway fire to the point he could never cook again. It would all catch up with him eventually and he would finally get what he deserved.

But this. How did he lose everything to the cold?

He wonders if this feeling of numb clarity is what actual insanity feels like. People have called him nuts, he calls himself crazy everyday but this feels different. He sees everything laid out perfectly. 

“Cousin?” 

Every fuck up. Every insult thrown and received. All the boiling pots and ticking timers.

He doesn't really feel anything.

“Cousin, look at me.”

Carmy is already doing that. The cigarette is gone and he doesn’t know what to focus on anymore.

The bear is gone, he remembers.

“ Shit, Carmy you need to breathe. Fuck Carmy, look at me !”

Richie is grabbing him. Then holding him. They never hug. 

He’s kneeling on the ground now, he doesn’t remember falling but Richie is still holding him.

Sydney flashes through his mind. 

When she first walked into the Beef to work for him. Braids up, eyes sparking and shirt pressed.

When she came back to build the Bear with him. Determined stare, stress bitten lips and worn sneakers.

When she first entered his apartment just to cook. Big cozy sweater, legs immediately carrying her to his kitchen like she belonged there, coconut shampoo.

It works and it doesn’t. He’s brought back. And now he’s faced with the reality he made.

Sugar finds them on the ground outside. She motions for them to come back in time and they do. Richie walks in first, and Sugar keeps in step with her brother.

“I’m sorry, shouldn’t have hit you Bear.” She says taking his arm in hers. “It’s not your fault, it’s just in the ambulance she was…it was bad and I– I’m sorry.”

“Could she…did she say anything?” Carmy asked, gripping his arm back.

“Just mumbles, I could really understand. EMT’s say she would have been pretty confused. Probably didn’t really know what was happening.”

Carmy mulls that over and concludes that somehow even if she lost every brain cell in her body Sydney knew what was happening. Maybe throughout the whole night she was trapped in there. All alone. She knew and she’d wake up still knowing everything.

“I think I fucked everything up.” 

“You always think that.” His sister rested her head on his shoulder as they walked the sterile hallways.

“I know but I almost fucking killed her.”

“You did not almost fucking kill her. You didn’t make some calls, those are your mistakes Carmy. Accept that guilt but nothing else, I know what’s going through your head and–”

“I ruin everything.”

“Carmy.” She stops them in the hallway, holding both his shoulders tightly.

“I fucking shit myself everytime you call me, do you know that? Even before Mickey. Because you sound like that. Like you fucking love me. I haven’t even cooked for you in months.”

“You don’t have to. I just need you Bear.”

“I’m a shit person.” He was born shit. He made everything shit. He tried. He really fucking kept  trying and that just made evrything worse.

“So be better.” 

“That’s it? That’s all you have?” His sister didn’t say it as Sydney once told to be better, but they both sound pretty sure it was possible. That was the weird part.

“You have no other options. It’s not just about you anymore.” 

Oh right, he guesses he really doesn’t. He’d risk losing everything like he did everyday.

But Sydney, there was no option there. He needed her. And this really isn’t about him. He nods to his sister, eyes flicking down to his stomach for a second. 

“Do you have any names picked yet?” He asks because he hasn’t asked anything about his upcoming family member in months. Fuck he was a prick.

“Nope.” She says as they resume walking, she pats her abdomen gently. “Pete suggested the name Michael a couple weeks back.”

“Fucking weird.” Carmy scoffed.

“That’s what I said!” She smiled.

“He would have hated it too.”

“Fucking drama queen would have changed the birth certificate himself. Would have gone on and on about the world not needing another him walking around.”

Mickey most definitely would have Carmy thinks. But he would have also still loved being an uncle. He wouldn’t get a chance to try again. 

Carmy won’t waste his.

Carmy spends the next couple hours wandering the hospital. 

After wandering back to the group he gives a whole stupid speech about how committed he is to do better by them all and they all boo and laugh at him. 

He sits by Marcus for a while. He knows better than to bring up Sydney. So he describes his new dessert line up to Carmy. Every ingredient, all the textures, the arrangement on the plate and the best dishes to have before him.

He lets Carmy get lost in the vision. Carmy feels the same fear he always feels when someone gets him enough to just do shit like that. But he stays seated, letting himself get lost. Marcus truly has come so far and he’s still so full of potential.

They are all like that. How did he get so lucky?

He wanders away at point without any challenge. They all know he can’t really stay still for long. And he has been told he can’t see her yet, so he just walks. He walks through the little hospital chapel, down any hallway that wasn’t closed off the the public finally finding himself in the cafeteria.

He’s not hungry but there is nothing in his stomach which isn’t great. Syd would kill him if he passed out before he had the chance to apologize. 

He grabs a wrapped muffin and a banana. There’s someone next to him making a coffee. An older man who notices Carmy first.

“Are you Carmen?” Carmy looks at this man’s exhaustion yet kind eyes and he knows who he is immediately. A pit forms in his still empty stomach. 

Sydney’s father raises his hand and Carmy flinches, but it's just for a handshake.

“Carmy yeah, hello sir.” He mutters taking the man’s hand shake feeling the awkwardness between the both of them.

“Call me Manny.”

“Okay.” Fuck, what was Carmy suppossed to say? 

Sorry for being such a neglectful bastard that he almost killed his daughter? 

That without her, he wouldn’t have shit?

That when he felt like the world fell on its axis she was the only thing that could fix it?

“She says you can be an asshole.” Sydney’s father supplies him, now minding the insult leaving his mouth. “And that you're an amazing chef. And bad at math. And that you smoke too much. And you yell too much and you don’t know how to be friends very well.”

Carmy nods along to Sydney’s word through her dad’s mouth. All sounding pretty true and very Sydney.

“She also says she could never be anyone else’s partner in this and that she wouldn’t want to. That you gave her her thing.” Manny finishes and his face gets softer at the end. “I don’t really know what all that means put together.”

“I don’t either.” Sydney wanting him in any way was something too precious for him.

“She always knew what she wanted to become and create. And she is more than capable on her own, but if she wants it with you well…I won’t and definitely can’t stop her.”

“I’ll try to be there for her anyway I can.” Carmy hates how he sounds right now, vulnerable instead of sure. Like he agrees that she should want anyone else to ride this wave with but for some reason she’s stuck on him.

Do better.

That feels like a blessing, or just a fact laid out for him. Stopping Sydney from doing anything she wanted wasn’t  possible. So he would be her partner for real or be friend if she leaves the Bear or cheer her on from afar if she left his life entirely.

Manny’s cell phone buzzes in his hand.

“She woke up, Tina says she is awake.” The relief through the man’s voice and in Carmy’s own heart did little to quell his growing anxiety.

What the fuck was he gonna say to her?

Carmy stood outside the door as Syd and her dad talked. He almost went back to the waiting room. Before being told by Tina as she left the room, Sydney wanted to talk to him alone after her dad.

Fuck. Syd never waited to do anything. 

He used his twenty minute wait to completely flounder. His hands shook. He realized he forgot to take his banana and muffin with him.

Maybe he should run back and get it for Sydney? Did someone leave her food already? She is gonna hate eating this hospital shit for the next couple days. He’ll find a way to sneak her something good.

Sydney’s dad appears at the door and is ushering him inside. Carmy is not ready. Now her dad’s gone and he’s met with Sydney teasing smile.

And her sunken eyes. The IV. All the blankets.

“Are you gonna cry?” She creaks out to him. She clears her throat.

“Fuck off.” He drags his hand through his hair in a soft huff. He leans his hand on the foot of her bed and looks at her again. “Maybe, yeah probably.”

But he’s already started. And he can’t stop. Cheeks too wet to wipe off completely. Carmy hopes his apologizing in between the sobs is making sense. Either way, Sydney lays there waiting for him as patiently as ever.

Eventually he kneels against the side of her bed, head buried in her outermost blanket. He’s run out of tears and words. He’s exhausted and wishes he let Sydney speak first. Let her get her shit out without watching him act this way. 

She deserved so much better.

He feels her move a little under him and then she feels her hand land on the top of his head. Her fingers thread softly through his hair. Steadily massaging their way back and forth and he melts. He wants to cry again.

She speaks again. A little stronger this time.

“Not gonna lie, you're kind of ruining my homicidal fantasies right now. Had a whole thing with a meat cleaver planned out.”

“Sorry, I can go get one if you want.” He will. He’ll find a way to sneak it past security too.

“Nah, maybe another time.” Her hand drops to his cheek. He holds it there, for a few seconds to warm her up. For another few selfish seconds because it’s the closest he’s ever felt to peace. “Carmy, I need you to listen to me clearly okay?”

Here it comes. Carmy can take it. I mean he really can’t but he’ll try.”

“We are not delaying shit.” She sounds almost exactly like herself, just not making any sense. “I’ll be here for a couple days and rest another at home. You’ll hold down the fort with Sugar and Richie, and that’s give us about ten days to–”

“ Syd .”

“ Carm . I’m not gonna act like this isn’t completely fucking insane but that is what is happening, honestly I would come in immediately after discharge but the doc was pretty serious about the risk of pneumonia so better safe. I can't just turn it off. We both fucked up and we will find a way to move past it. Together Carmy, because I can’t do this on my own and you definitely can’t so here we are. Too much is riding on this. If you try to fire me, I’ll come in anyway. We're doing this but only if it’s together. Got it?”

Let it rip.

So be better.

We’re good. We’re back.

“Got it, chef?”

“Heard.”

Carmy walks to Sydney’s bedside for her water and helps her drink after her speech. He has a feeling he’ll be on autopilot for the rest of the day and at this woman’s beck and call for the rest of his life so why fight it that hard? 

He’ll be able to convince her to stay out an extra couple days.

He ends up on her bed, letting her head rest on his chest. The television plays reruns.

“I guess I pissed in the walk-in after I passed out so we’ll need to get it disinfected.” She says easily.

“Alright, I’ll call the guy tomorrow.” She started to raise her head. “In an hour, I’ll call the guy in an hour.” She lays back down.

Carmy wonders about bliss. He googled the definition the other day. Utter joy or contentment . Sounds about right. He wondered how long it could last.

He thought she had fallen back asleep. It’s the only reason he did it, he tells himself. 

He leaned down and pecked his lips on her forehead.

“Fucking dork.” She sighed against him.

“Fuck off.” He said and he did it again.