Archive of Our Own

Claire had been thirteen when she moved two streets over from the Berzattos. A few days into unpacking the house, Claire and her sisters had been going stir crazy, with only each other to talk to. When their next-door neighbour mentioned the street party nearby, put on to celebrate July fourth, they had begged and pleaded with their parents to let them go.

With a laugh and an eyeroll, her father had finally waved them away, sneaking them some cash and telling them to run before their mom got off the phone.

Claire remembered running beside her sisters, her mom halfheartedly calling after them. Claire had heard the smile and gentle amusement in her mom’s voice and so kept running.

The street–the Berzattos’ street–was already loud and packed, with people trading barbs and insults, laughter echoing in the few empty spaces in the crowds. Colette, Claire’s older sister, had taken charge, shooing them towards the big set up in the middle of the crowd, where Richie had been d shouting at Mikey to ‘hurry the fuck up with the food before everyone died of starvation.’ There had been such warmness and affection in their interactions, and Claire was immediately charmed.

Donna had been sober that evening, holding up the centre of everything with Mikey, Richie and the Faks buzzing around her. Although Natalie hadn’t been cooking (Claire couldn’t remember why), she had been valiantly and frantically trying to get everyone to form some semblance of a line.

“Stop being so controlling, Sugar!” Donna had chided warmly, rolling her eyes at the men around her. It had taken Claire a long time to realize that it had never been quite as friendly and familiar as she had first thought, but she knew that there was genuine love and affection there.

Carmy had probably been helping as well, but Claire hadn’t met him until a few hours later. Colette, being all of seventeen and precocious (something her mom had told her daily, exasperatedly) had had flirted shamelessly with Mikey when they first met. Claire had originally held back the gagging noise in her soul until Mikey turned to her.

It had always been so electric, being near Mikey. Claire was always intoxicated by the effects of holding his sole attention, the few times that she had managed it. He had welcomed them and learned their names, sneaking them food even when everyone standing in line complained.

“Our little secret,” he had said with a wink, pushing a plate towards her. “Go eat, I have a mob to feed.”

For over an hour, Claire had been dizzy with it, all the people crowding around had already begun to feel like family. Everyone had advice or people she should meet, where to shop, who to avoid, and who she’d be going to school with in September. She had learned the history of the neighbourhood and why this little pocket was unique compared to the rest of Chicago (something most Chicago neighbourhoods boasted, Claire had thought, herself a native to the city) and how best to fit in.

Natalie and Colette became friends that day, which is how Claire had been in the best place to be when Mikey was done cooking. He had looked down at her, eyes focused and direct, and asked her all about herself. She had told him how she wanted to be a doctor, which was why she had gotten the nicest bedroom in their new house, lovely and quiet so she could study in peace. It had made sense.  She told him which one of her sisters were the most annoying, where she would be going to high school and why she would be a year younger than her classmates–

“Oh, yeah?” Mikey had interrupted, his eyebrows flying up towards his hairline. “Bear’s gonna be starting there too.”

“Bear?” Claire had asked with a laugh.

“Sorry – my kid brother, Carmy. Everyone calls him Bear. You met him yet?” Claire had shaken her head, entranced by the way Mikey spoke, his hands flying everywhere.

“Nope,” she had said, wanting to talk more about the grade she had skipped.

“Hold on– yo, Richie, where’s Carm? There he is– Bear! C’mere, I wanna introduce you to someone.” Claire had mostly been following Mikey’s hands when Richie shoved Carmy towards her. At the time, Claire hadn’t thought too closely on the look Mikey and Richie had traded, knowing and smug.

“This is Bear,” Mikey had said, smirking at his younger brother’s protests. Carmy had been flushed red, barely glancing in her direction.

“Hey,” Carmy had muttered, wiping his hands on his jeans before reaching one out towards her. “It’s Carmy–”

“Oh my fuckin’ god,” Richie had cackled.

Mikey had rolled his eyes. “It’s a girl, Carm, you don’t have to shake her hand. Sorry,” Mikey had continued, looking to Claire, “he gets nervous–”

“Fuck off, Mikey,” Carmy had interrupted, walking away without another word..

“Nice to meet you!” Claire had called after him with a small wave.

She would run into Carmy a lot that summer. Despite the weirdness from their first meeting, he had always seemed sweet and shy, struggling to hold eye contact with her. He was skinny and awkward and shorter than her, and even though Colette jeered at her liking someone like that, Claire had gone home starry eyed every time they ran into one another, bolstered by Mikey’s encouragement. Everything had felt so right, like the romance books and movies she and her sisters loved so much. With so much of summer stretched out in front of them, Claire had giddily thought that this must be the start of a coming-of-age story, the crescendo of which would be Carmy and Claire realizing they were soulmates. Like A Walk to Remember, but without the cancer.

Mikey and Richie (and Neil Fak, soon after) had constantly told her how perfect she would be, outgoing and thoughtful and caring, just what ‘Carmy fucking needed.’ Richie had always been sharp with his words, but Mikey had never been anything but genuine, only looking out for his brother. At the time, Claire had thought that they meant that Carmy would grow up to be more like Mikey with her around, because she could help him through this awkward phase.

And she had tried for the rest of their teen years, talking to him at school and when she ran into him at Berzatto hosted parties. He had been painfully shy, and impossible to crack open. No matter how many hints or openings that she had given him, Carmy had failed to make a move.

“He’s a stupid boy,” Cate had told her acidly when Claire got upset. “He’s gross.”

Colette had rolled her eyes. “Try harder,” she had advised. “Sometimes boys need to be hit over the head with it.”

But nothing had worked. They had graduated high school, Claire started university and Carmy vanished from Chicago. But the Berzatto family had still pointed it out every time Claire ran into them. She still thought about him a lot, a ‘maybe,’ in her life that could’ve been so much more.

Then, Mikey had died.

Claire had mourned the beautiful and captivating man, who somehow hadn’t realized how much he was loved. Carmy had not come to the funeral like Claire expected, so she buried her head back into work. Until she had run into him at the grocery store.

It was such a thrill, finally being with Carmy. She was still too nervous to ask if he had thought about her over the years, the way she had with him. It was probably something to bring up after they started telling people. Carmy was different, stronger and broader, but even quieter somehow, and prone to sinking moods and panic attacks that had taken Claire aback.

He hadn’t grown up to be like Mikey.

Claire weirdly felt guilty about that.

But she was a nurturer, like Mikey had always said, so she would nurture Carmy the way he needed. Her boyfriend –they hadn’t used those words, but what else would describe what they shared?– still held a lot back, but Claire knew he was so busy with the restaurant that he was building that she forgave it. He cooked her dinner and saw her friends and made time for her, and Claire thought about him all the time. It wasn’t the coming-of-age story she had expected all those years ago, more of one of those movies where the wounded soldier comes home, recovering only when he meets the sweet, caring nurse. Claire was a doctor, of course, but it was close enough.

She was understanding about the restaurant, but Sydney –or Syd– as Carmy usually called him, took up too much space in Carmy’s brain, even at night. Claire heard about Sydney constantly, he texted Carmy frequently, he had ideas that Carmy was always reflecting on, and sometime Carmy couldn’t even sleep because of something Sydney had or hadn’t done that day and Carmy needed to think about it or fix it.

For too long, Claire assumed that Sydney was occupying some older brother role in Carmy’s head, which was why her boyfriend was so anxious about disappointing him constantly. Everything needed to be perfect for Sydney, and when Carmy was having a hard time going into the restaurant –because of Mikey, no doubt– Sydney made it harder on him.

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Claire told him one night, trying to stay diplomatic and calm despite Carmy’s pacing.

“No, no, it is,” Carmy said immediately, rubbing circles on his chest. “I need to be better at this, I promised h–”

“Yeah,” Claire said with an eye roll, “but it was one day, Bear–”

“Where I should’ve been at the restaurant,” Carmy insisted.

“I don’t think–”

“I need to go out for a smoke,” Carmy interrupted again, leaving her in bed alone.

The night that Carmy finally brought her into the restaurant, Claire felt special. She was seeing The Bear before anyone else did – her Bear wanted to show that to her. He wanted to share that with her. Claire was toying with the idea of trying to get him to make out with her on the counter when she heard the combative voices. Carmy’s voice trailed off, the hand he had been holding out to take her coat falling, moving hesitantly towards the voices.

Richie was at the centre of it, of course.

Natalie, noticeably pregnant, Claire was startled to see, was yelling at him, along with–

A gorgeous woman that Claire had never heard of. She went through the names she knew in her head, and Carmy had never mentioned her.

“Yo!” Carmy interrupted, striding into the room. His eyes met those of the mysterious woman, but she looked towards Claire, then back to Carmy, and then away.

“I've been here since the beginning,” Richie snarled at the young woman, who only rolled her big, gorgeous brown eyes. “You've been here two seconds.”

“What's going on?” Carmy snapped.

No one looked at him.

“Show some respect, kid.” Richie pointed his finger at Brown Eyes as he spoke, who only threw her head and laughed.

“Oh! Respect?” Natalie asked scathingly.

“Uh-huh, sure Richie.”

Carmy tried again, louder. “Hey!”

Still nothing.

“Yeah,” Richie sneered, taking a few steps closer to Brown Eyes. “Show some fucking respect.”

“Why would I respect you?” she asked him mockingly. “You gonna make me?”

“You gonna stab me again?”

Wait, what?

“Sydney! Richie!” Carmy yelled, finally getting their attention. Claire didn’t like the feeling that sank deep in her stomach. This was Sydney? It couldn’t be – this was Sydney? This was the person that kept Carmy up at night, who wasn’t a man but a beautiful woman? Why didn’t she know this?

“What?” both Sydney and Richie snapped.

“What’s going on?” Carmy asked through clenched teeth.

Sydney pointed at Richie accusingly. “Oh, no biggie, he tried to fucking steal power from our neighbours–”

“I wasn’t stealing anything–”

Carmy ignored him, focused on Sydney, who looked even more displeased with Carmy than she did with Richie. Carmy was fidgeting under her glare, and Claire wanted to cut in and ask her own questions.

“Why do we need to steal power?” he asked Sydney.

Richie started talking as if anyone was listening. “I borrowed an outlet from a neighbour–”

“Amperage,” Sydney and Natalie snapped.

“Amperage?” Carmy demanded, still looking at Sydney, still without introducing her to Claire.

Natalie finally noticed her, reaching out for a hug. “Oh my god, hi. Hi,” she said quickly.

“Congratulations,” Claire whispered, annoyed that this was how she was finding out about Natalie’s pregnancy. “How far–”

Natalie didn’t answer, too distracted on the way that Carmy and Sydney were arguing, her eyes bouncing between them like it was a tennis match. Richie kept trying to cut in, but Carmy couldn’t seem to manage pulling his focus away from this woman Claire had never met or heard anything real about.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Carmy asked Sydney.

Something passed over Sydney’s eyes, as if she had discarded the first thing she had wanted to say. “I should have called you, okay?” she admitted instead.

“We didn’t need to call you, everything is fine,” Richie insisted. “Look–”

“Everything is not fine!” Carmy shouted.

“Everything is fine!” Richie countered.

Claire was suddenly fed up. She was Carmy’s girlfriend, and barely anyone had noticed her, and she had not liked the way Sydney’s eyes had flashed towards and away from her.

“Hi,” she said, holding her hands to her warm cheeks. Everyone’s eyes slid to her impatiently, “I’m Claire. I just – sorry to interrupt.”

Carmy flinched, like he had forgotten she was there. “Sorry,” he stammered, “this is, um, this is Claire. This is my friend Claire.” It was Claire’s turn to flinch. It’s not like they had openly announced their relationship to everyone (well, her sisters knew, and her mom, obviously; some of her friends as well), but Claire had known his family for over a decade. He could say more than friend.

Especially since Sydney was the only one who didn’t know who she was. Claire’s throat felt tight. Did Sydney know that Carmy was dating her? Someone?

“Yeah,” she choked out, “you all seem really, really busy. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Everyone looked to Sydney, who became nervous under their eyes. “Um, I’m–I’m Sydney,” she said awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m also sorry that you’re here. Or not–” Claire glared without meaning to. “That– just that this is happening in front of you,” Sydney offered. “It’s good that you’re here.”

Claire wanted to tell her how long she had known Carmy, known the Berzattos. She wanted to tell Sydney about the number of arguments that she had been witness to over the years, and that it wasn’t a big deal because she was family. Claire was family. Sydney had known all of them for ten minutes.

Richie kicked the floor, Sydney’s awkwardness apparently spreading. “What’s up, Claire-bear?” he said to her. “Interesting,” he shot towards Carmy.

“Hi cousin,” Claire said impatiently, wanting to stare at Sydney and guess her place here. Carmy kept looking at her, after all. He looked fucking guilty for some reason, and why would he? She should interject. But Richie kept talking.

Finally, Carmy clapped. “Everybody,” he said, still fucking staring at Sydney, “thank you for today. It was a great day–”

“You weren’t here, how would you know that?” Sydney interrupted icily.

The room went completely silent, and Sydney didn’t look away.

It was a rare time that Claire was grateful for Richie. “This is– this is bullshit,” he cut in, moving between Carmy and Sydney.

“I appreciate you trying to solve some problems, okay?”

“Cousin–”

“Everybody, thank you for today. It was a great day.” He had stopped looking her way. “Go home.”

“No, hold on, hold on.”

“Good night,” Carmy repeated to Richie, his voice hard. Then he started fucking looking at Sydney again. Anxiously. Why anxiously? He was the boss. It was his restaurant.

Sydney rolled both her eyes and head mockingly. “Good night,” she said, as if this was all funny to her.

“What?” Carmy asked her, his voice cracking, like he hadn’t been the one to tell her to go home.

Sydney breezed by them, nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders. “I’m saying goodnight.”

She didn’t spare Carmy another glance. “It was nice meeting you,” she said to Claire briefly, not slowing down at all. Claire didn’t have time to properly reply, distracted by her boyfriend following the other woman down the hall and towards the lockers.

Richie and Natalie started arguing again, and Claire took advantage of it to carefully follow her boyfriend following another woman.

“Syd?” Carmy murmured while Sydney ripped her locker open. “Are we good? I’m–I’m sorry–”

“Sure, Carm,” Sydney told him without inflection. “Why wouldn’t we be good?”

“Sydney, please–”

“Nah, I’ve been ordered home–”

“What? I didn’t fucking order you home–”

“You said go home a million times; what would you call that? You’re the boss, after all–”

“No,” Carmy said sharply, even though he was. “What are you doing? Don’t do that. I’m not the boss–”

“Ohhhh, okay,” Sydney said, like she didn’t want to admit she was angry. “You’re not the boss but you can fuck off whenever you want, you can insist on having the final checks on everything–”

“What?”

“–and you can kick me out of the kitchen I haven’t left before midnight in a month–”

“Why the fuck are you staying so late?”

“–because my ‘business partner’–”

“Don’t say it like that, you are.”

“–so you can make out with your girlfriend.”

Carmy flinched. “That’s not– okay, none of that is– she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Right. Your friend. My bad.” Sydney threw her bag over her shoulder and turned away from Carmy. “Maybe you and your friend can take a break at some point so you can do one of those checks that ‘only you can do’ while you’re here?”

“Sydney,” Carmy snapped, clenching his fists.

“‘Night, Carm,” Sydney said over him, shoving the door open. “Thanks for the great day.”

Carmy seemed to be frozen for a couple of minutes. Then–

“Fuck!” he shouted, turning around to see Claire, his friend.

He had the fucking decency to look guilty at her this time, at least.

“I’m, uh, sorry Claire,” Carmy managed, after Natalie and Richie had cleared out as well. “Maybe I can show you the restaurant another night? Sydney’s right, I should–I should try and get some work done here.”

“Why does it have to be tonight?” she asked sternly, her arms folded tight. “Just because ‘Sydney’ fucking says so?”

Carmy looked taken aback. “That’s not fair,” he said softly. “I’ve b-been a shitty partner to her, I sh-should have been here, there’s so m-much to do, and I’m the one who promised J-Jimmy his money back in eighteen months.” He stopped, like he was having a fucking come-to-Jesus moment. “I did that alone.”

“Carmy–”

“I did that alone. Fuck!” He banged his fist against one of the counters, swearing at the pain.

Claire rolled her eyes and went to him, pulling his hand to her to check to see if he had broken anything.

“Sorry, Claire,” he said guiltily. “This was shitty.”

Claire ignored him, feeling the bones that she already knew weren’t broken. She couldn’t figure out what to fucking say first.

“You didn’t tell me that Sydney was a girl,” she finally managed, hating the way it came out. She didn’t look up at him, holding his hand more and more tightly. She could feel how still he was holding himself.

“I talk about her all the time,” he said carefully, wincing either from his words or Claire’s grip.

“Yeah, and you never fucking said that she’s a girl.”

“Is… that important?” he asked, and Claire wished Mikey was here to knock some sense into his little brother.

“Probably.”

Carmy shrugged helplessly. “I mean, I didn’t tell you that Tina was a girl either?”

“I’ve met Tina,” Claire said dismissively.

“Okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Bear?”

Carmy couldn’t stop stuttering, and when Claire looked up at him, his eyes were moving frantically, like he was trying to find the right answer in her face. “I talked about her,” he settled on, his voice weak, “a l-lot. Sort of. I didn’t k-know that you th-thought she was a guy? I guess?”

“That’s weird, Bear,” Claire laid out slowly. “Or, I guess not, if we’re just friends.”

Carmy winced against her hold, which admittedly had really started to tighten.

“I’m sorry,” he said, like it was an offering, “I-I don’t do this very oft–”

“So?”

He pursed his lips, thinking. “Can you… say more, please?” he asked. “I don’t understand why you’re upset.”

“‘Say more?’” Claire snapped mockingly. “It should be obvious, Bear,” She couldn’t help but think about Mikey, about how perceptive he always, always was. Why couldn’t Carmy be more like him? Why hadn’t he grown up to be more like the man who practically raised him.

Carmy yanked his hand away, a stiff silence taking over.

It occurred to Claire that she might have said the last part out loud.

“What does that mean?” he asked quietly, something hard in his voice. Claire immediately felt awful, even more so when Carmy refused to let her take his hand back.

“Nothing, Bear, nothing,” she said as sweetly as she could manage. “Sorry, that came out wrong. Just that, um, I care about you as more than a friend? I thought that that was pretty fucking obvious that we were more than friends, so.”

“So,” Carmy repeated back to her, faintly nodding his head.

“Right,” Claire said, bewildered, nodding her head back at him.

“I should get to work, Claire,” he said, jabbing his thumb behind him. “Rain check?”

“Oh, I can stay and hang out, if-if you want?” she said brightly, suddenly feeling like things were slipping away from her. “I won’t be in the way.”

“Thanks,” Carmy said numbly, avoiding her eyes. “It’s cool, I need to do this on my own, I think.”

Claire let out a choked sound that was almost a laugh. “Okay, cool then,” she snapped. “Let me know when there’s room for me, I guess.”

“That’s not fair,” Carmy repeated, flinching again like she was going to hit him, which was really fucking hurtful. “I’ll call you, okay?”

“Sure, Bear,” Claire said breezily, not sure how else to coax him out of whatever this was. Sometimes pretending everything was normal did the trick. This would have been so much easier with Mikey, Claire had never had to try this hard to understand him. She grabbed Carmy’s chin and smacked a loud, hard kiss on his lips, pretending that everything was fine, this was all normal, it was just part of the story. “Talk to you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

Carmy nodded but didn’t say anything else, and Claire decided to get the hell out of the restaurant.

After that, everything slowly deteriorated. Carmy awkwardly apologized and told her she was ‘more than a friend,’ whatever that meant. Claire was starting to feel desperate, so she believed Carmy, and worse, she believed Neil when he swore that Carmy thought they were soulmates. But Carmy threw himself back into the restaurant, and suddenly Claire had to face Sydney’s presence in a new and terrible way. Texts, phone calls, a couple of awkward meetings, all that and more. It rankled at Claire’s nerves.

She tried to push more with him, ask more of him, because it felt like he was fading away.

“I have to work this hard,” he explained one night, feeling ‘too tired’ for sex. “Opening a restaurant is insane, and I dropped the fucking ball at the beginning.”

“Because of me.”

“No,” he sighed, sounding impatient, which would tumble them into another argument.

But Claire was dedicated to making this work. This was meant to be, ever since that warm, humid evening when she was a teenager, Mikey slyly pushing Carmy towards her. Mikey knew it then, and he always knew everything! She wasn’t going to let this go just because Carmy never learned how to be a human being. He just needed help, and Claire could do that! He was The Bear, but she was Claire-Bear. This was always going to happen; she had been waiting all this time.

Claire switched shifts, the day of friends and family. A friend peered at her, concerned, when she explained.

“Isn’t that the day that the Dr. Brent is visiting and giving a lecture?” she asked carefully. “He’s a pretty big deal, Claire, shouldn’t you–”

“There’ll be other visiting doctors,” Claire dismissed, “and this is the restaurant’s opening night!”

“I thought it was friends and family?”

Claire tried to stay calm. “It is.”

“And opening was later.”

“Yup. In a couple of weeks. What’s your point?”

“I mean, it’s a day shift, why can’t you work and be there?”

“He might need me!” Claire snapped, bending her head over a mountain of paperwork that she had been putting off. “It’s tough for him right now, and I don’t want to miss a call if he needs me to be there early.”

“Okay,” her friend said quietly. “Has he ever done that?”

“No,” Claire said, “but he might.”

“I’m not trying to, like, judge or anything, Claire,” her friend offered. “But you’ve been switching shifts a lot, and that’s not–”

“Everything’s fine,” Claire insisted. “Everything will be fine.”

But Carmy never reached out, and Claire slowly whittled the day away, thinking about how she was falling behind at work. By mid-afternoon, Claire was fed-up with his silence and decided to ‘stop by’ the restaurant and pretend she was on her way home.

“Claire-bear!” Neil and Richie chorused, hugging her tightly.

“You’re early, kid,” Richie said conspiratorially, nudging her the way that Mikey used to. Her heart ached at the reminder, everything had felt possible when Mikey was alive.

“Are you here looking for Carm?” Neil asked, his eyes wide and childlike.

“I am,” Claire said, blushing when they teased her further.

Richie finally jerked a thumb towards the front of the restaurant. “He won’t let Fak fix a couple of tables,” he said exasperatedly. “Says he’s gotta fuckin’ do it.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Claire said, gently, assuredly, like a girlfriend does before the ‘big thing’ in movies.

“Thank fuck you’re here, Claire-bear,” Richie sighed. “Go. Before I kill him.”

She cheerfully opened the door, immediately catching sight of the table that needed fixing.

Or rather, she saw her boyfriend on the floor, lying next to Sydney. They were drenched in sunlight and speaking softly to one another. It wasn’t normal, the way that they were looking at each other, Claire felt sick with it. Sydney, fiddling with a screwdriver, was staring at Carmy anxiously like he had all the answers. Worse, Carmy looked so fond and confidently reassuring back at Sydney. This was not how people behaved; this was not how anything was supposed to go. They hadn’t even noticed Claire.

“I have a… a thing I want to give you,” Carmy said gently, tilting his head.

“Uh-oh,” Sydney said, sounding like she was trying to pull off a light and joking tone to distract from the warmth in her voice. “Carmy, if it’s another fucking Fak, I swear–”

He interrupted her, laughing, but what made it awful was how thrilled Sydney looked, like it was an achievement to get Carmy to laugh.

Claire cleared her throat and banged on the door like she was only now just walking through. They sprang apart when they saw it was Claire, Sydney looking awkward and uncomfortable but Carmy, her boyfriend, looked annoyed that she was there.

“I’ll, um, I–I should go check on the kitchen,” Sydney said in a rush.

“Okay,” Carmy agreed, looking like he didn’t want to. “Can we–”

“Sure, after the–”

“Great, thank you chef.”

Sydney fled, and it was just them.

“Hi Claire,” Carmy said, his fingers twitching, “I didn’t expect you. Doors won’t open for another couple of hours.”

“I know,” Claire interrupted, “I was just on my way home and thought I’d come in and say hi.”

“Oh.”

“So. Hi.”

“Hey.”

“What was that about?” Claire asked, trying not to sound too demanding. “With Sydney.”

“Nothing,” Carmy said with a sigh. “We were fixing the table.”

“Looks fine.”

“‘Cause we fixed it.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

“What were you talking about?” Claire couldn’t help but ask. “It seemed… intimate.”

In life, Carmy was always a little red, but not this much.

“We were just talking, Claire,” he said, fussing with some of the table displays.

“About what.”

“Claire–”

“About what?” Claire demanded.

“Nothing!”

“It didn’t look like nothing, Bear,” Claire said, like it would remind him of who he was.

“It was about opening, like, how we’re feeling about it, that’s all.” His eyes kept jumping to the clock. “That’s it.”

“What specifically?”

“Claire–”

“No,” she insisted, because why wouldn’t he follow the fucking script. “What specifically?”

“I’m not going to tell you that,” he said, tired.

She crossed her arms. “And why not?”

“Because it’s private,” Carmy said, wincing as he did so.

“You’re having private conversations with another woman?”

“Th-that’s not it,” Carmy said pleadingly. “S-Sydney was talking about her feelings –about opening– and she’s kind of a private person, she wouldn’t want me telling it to people.”

“I am not people,” Claire hissed. “I am your girlfriend.”

Carmy flinched.

“What was that!” she almost yelled. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Carmy dismissed, his eyes fixed on the door. “You should, um, go, we have a lot to do.”

“Too busy for your girlfriend–”

“Claire,” he repeated, like some dumb alarm clock. “What do you want me to say? This is my focus. I’m sorry that I’ve been so busy, but you’re, um, also b-busy? Y-you’re a doctor, you also work a lot, and, um, I don’t show up at the ER, I guess–”

“I know everyone here,” Claire said acidly. “You don’t know anyone at my hospital. And it’s a hospital, so that would be weird.”

Carmy was tapping his leg in a rhythmic way, taking long, deep breaths. “You need to go,” he said again. “I can’t fuck this up, I’ve already fucked up so much with h– with this–”

“Hold on, being with me is fucking up?” Claire had to blink away tears, why was it so hard with him? It should be easier by now.

“No, Claire, fu– stop putting words in my mouth. Please.” He took another deep breath. “I meant that I’m standing here, fighting with you, and behind those doors there are a million things that I need to do. It’s not fair for everyone to do it alone. Please. We can talk after, about us.”

“About us? What do you mean, us?”

“Talk about this, then,” Carmy said, exasperated, gesturing between. “This.”

“Cool,” Claire said, a tear falling. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair then, since you ‘can’t’ deal with ‘this’ or ‘us’ or whatever.”

She left the restaurant, sure, but more importantly, he didn’t try and stop her.

Claire spent an hour telling her two roommates that she wasn’t going to the dinner, only to put on a dress and go anyway. She thought maybe, maybe, everything was still salvageable. And it was a disaster. She went to bed that night, her ears still ringing, the burning humiliation in her gut, Carmy’s words chasing her into her dreams.

She had thought that he would be at her door that night, begging for forgiveness while her roommates glared and jeered at him. Or text the next day, quiet apologies and careful promises to be around to talk when she was ready. He didn’t. The days passed, then weeks, all the while the Faks kept coming by to promise her that Carmy was in dire straits without her. He needed her, they promised. Desperately.

She resisted them, pretending, because that’s what you do. Claire couldn’t get the bitter taste of Sydney out of her mouth, nor could she understand how the woman fit into Carmy’s life. Natalie, Richie, and all the Faks had mentioned how much they fought, over and over. Why would he want that? Claire was only peace in comparison.

She brought it up when Carmy finally came to see her, months later, but he shut that down.

“This isn’t about Sydney,” he said. “This is about me. I was so fucking lost in all the shit that Mikey left me, stuff from even before he fucking died. I wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship, I was hiding from the restaurant–”

“So, you used me,” Claire accused, trying not to cry.

Carmy flinched. “N-no? No. Or, um, I didn’t mean to? It just seemed like, I dunno, what Mikey would have wanted. He always wanted me to ask you out, and I never did, and then you came up to me in the freezer aisle and I panicked. And then… I guess it was easier to go out with you than face everything else. I hurt a lot of people. I hurt you, I’m so sorry that I hurt you, Claire. I never meant to.”

Claire had long lost the battle, wiping away the steady tears. “I don’t even understand – I was so nice to you, Carmy. I helped you and supported you, and–and this is what I get? This is how you treat me?”

Carmy, looking devastated, shrugged helplessly and opened his mouth, but Claire didn’t want to hear anything else from him. She reared back and slapped him as hard as she could, knocking him off balance and stumbling backwards.

“Fuck you, Carmy,” she seethed. “And fuck all of this.”

Carmy’s lips tightened, and he swallowed hard a few times, working his jaw gingerly. He traced the red blooming across his cheek, straightening up.

“Goodbye, Claire,” he said hoarsely, not looking at her. “I am sorry.”

Claire let herself cry, even though she was standing on a busy sidewalk.

Fuck him.

Seven years later, Claire was grumpily pushing a shopping cart through the candy aisle. It had been such a stupid idea to get pregnant so close to the summer. She was about to tip over into her third trimester, she was boiling hot, her shopping cart had a fucked-up wheel, and she was pissed off at the way the store was even fucking organized. Being in your thirties was a trip, this didn’t used to bother her. Kevin would be working late, so Claire had plans for a girl dinner that consisted of gummy bears.

And–wait, ice cream. It was so hot that it should have been her first thought.

She shoved her cart towards the frozen aisle, only to stop dumbfounded.  At the other end of the long aisle was Carmy, pushing a twin stroller with two infants in it. She blinked disbelievingly. She and Carmy were thirty-two now, which would mean that Natalie was pushing forty. It wasn’t uncommon, of course, but Claire was surprised. She didn’t know Natalie had been pregnant again. Claire had mostly insulated herself from anything Berzatto related. It was nice that Carmy was such an involved uncle though.

It was mean and childish, but it hit Claire that this could be one of those moment in a rom-com where the jilted ex, after a glow up and a new partner and a ring and a baby, could saunter up to the asshole ex and rub her happiness in his face. But that was ridiculously, insanely immature. She was a doctor, for god’s sake. She was better and smarter than this.

Certainly smart enough to wait until she had idled a little closer to Carmy before she could gasp in fake surprise and–

“Bear?” she exclaimed, because yes, make him remember his nickname that he used to hear in her voice.

Carmy turned towards her in surprise, and a small but careful smile taking over. “Hey, Claire,” he greeted. “Good to see you.” He nodded towards her prominent bump her hand was oh so accidentally cradling. “And congratulations– when are you due?”

“Beginning of September,” she said with a sigh. “We’re so excited, I can’t even describe this feeling, you know? Or,” she said with a small frown, “sorry, I guess you wouldn’t. Being a parent –or, soon to be parent I guess– is so…”

“Joyful but fucking terrifying?” Carmy said, his lips twitching in a confusing way.

“Yes,” Claire told him, surprised, snapping her fingers. “That’s it.”

His eyebrows went up, she clearly hadn’t gotten to the devastating part of this interaction yet, despite how great she looked in her pink sundress.

“Yeah, me and S–”

“Kevin and I are just spending the night going through whatever weird craving I’m having at the moment,” she lied with a laugh, nodding to her cart. “How’s Natalie?”

Carmy looked confused for a second. “Nat’s great–”

“It’s so nice of you to take care of her kids,” Claire continued, feeling bizarrely nervous. She was not used to a Carmy that was so… comfortable? Relaxed? She didn’t know what to call this. She had been expecting more stuttering and fidgeting.

Further confusing her, Carmy laughed loud enough that he had to cover his mouth.

“What?” Claire said irritably.

Carmy glanced down at the stroller. “These are my kids, Claire, not Nat’s.”

Shocked, Claire looked at the two little bodies in the stroller and immediately started to flush. Of course they weren’t Natalie’s babies, unless she had divorced Pete since they had last spoken. Which meant…

“You have kids,” she said, unable to contain her surprise. Carmy looked a little irritated, but didn’t acknowledge it.

“Yeah,” he said proudly, “Mine and Syd’s.”

“Syd?” Claire asked mildly. She was so fucking stupid; how did she miss his wedding ring?

At least he looked apologetic. “Sydney. You met her a couple of times.”

“I did.”

“Congratulations,” Carmy repeated, like he was trying to move on from this, from the fact that Claire had been right. “Your first?”

“Yep,” she said tightly, feeling a very old anger resurfacing. “You as well?”

Carmy chuckled again – where did all this laughing come from? The babies looked like they were three months old, he should be too exhausted.

“No,” he said ruefully. “We didn’t expect twins–” He looked down at the stroller, fond and loving, “–Syd’s mom was a twin and apparently it skips a generation. So, we’re up to three. This is Thalia and Emma– Adeya is with Syd.”

“Congratulations, yourself then,” Claire finally thought to offer. “That must be hard with you alone at the restaurant.”

“Alone?”

Claire gestured at the stroller. “Oh, I guess I meant– maternity leave.”

“No, I took paternity leave as well,” Carmy said, checking his phone. “Same with Adeya after she was born. I didn’t want to miss anything, you know? We have a good team, and we called in a few favours, so The Bear’s safe while we’re gone.”

“Oh, wow,” Claire said dumbly.

Carmy started to flush. “Yeah, the original plan with Adeya was for us to alternate– Syd would take three months off, then I would take three months. But the first day back at the restaurant it felt so fucking wrong, y’know?” He shrugged like what he had just said wasn’t as hot as fuck. He still looked hot as fuck, unfortunately – Claire never understood how he was that built. “I pretty much went home immediately.”

“Cool!” she managed brightly.

It wasn’t like she was still in love with him or anything, but it would’ve been nice to sashay in and out of this conversation and leave him feeling like shit for letting her go. This was not going the way she thought it would. He had three kids. And a Michelin star, something Claire was pretending she she didn’t know about. He hadn’t even brought it up, he was talking about the price of diapers, for fuck’s sake.

“Must be hard to sneak in a cigarette,” Claire interrupted with a laugh, all of this feeling too surreal. “Pregnancy has been fucking hard without one, especially working in a hospital.”

“I bet,” Carmy said, rocking the stroller gently when his daughters started to squirm. “I, um, quit though. Years before Adeya was born.”

“Sydney didn’t like it?” Claire guessed shrewdly.

“She didn’t like it,” Carmy confirmed, “but I quit for me.”

“That’s great, Carm.”

“Thanks.”

Fuck, it was back to awkward.

“I saw your mom about a month back,” Claire offered, not sure why she was still standing there. Morbid curiosity, perhaps. “She was over visiting my mom–”

“It’s been a long time since I talked to Donna,” Carmy said with a tense shrug.

“Oh!”

“Yeah.”

“That’s– wow, okay, sorry. She told me she missed you and didn’t get to see you enough, but I thought you had just been busy at the restaurant.” She wasn’t sure why it mattered; Claire knew well enough things hadn’t always been great with Donna, especially after Mikey died. But cutting her off?

“No,” Carmy said, still in that firm tone. “That’s not why.”

Claire peered at his expression. “She really seems to–”

“I appreciate it Claire, but there are very real reasons why I don’t talk to Donna.”

Claire thought of how erratic Donna had been that day. How haunted and vacant her eyes had looked. Donna had talked about Natalie, so they were still talking, so why wouldn’t he be?

“Has she met your kids?”

He was starting to look impatient. “No.”

Claire put her hands up, annoyed. “Okay, sorry.”

Carmy sighed deeply. “Sorry. It’s, um, one of those things, I guess. A lot of people keep trying to get me to change my mind. I’m not going to.”

“Including Sydney?” Claire didn’t manage to stop herself from asking.

Carmy peered at her. “No, of course not,” he said, sounding confused, “She supports me, always.”

It seemed jarring that Sydney wouldn’t push him to stay in touch with his mother, his kids’ grandmother. Donna was troubled, but she was also sober now, why wouldn’t Carmy give her another chance? Claire opened her mouth to point out that addiction was a sickness, which Carmy should know, and that cutting someone out was unkind and–

A loud shriek interrupted her. “Dada!”

Claire looked up to see the toddler running towards Carmy, her arms stretched out, Sydney not far behind her.

“Adeya, I told you to stop running–”

Carmy reached down to swing one of his three children into his arms, spinning her around. Sydney rolled her eyes at the both of them fondly, nudging the shopping cart to the side.

“Ice cream,” Adeya told her parents seriously, which they both laughed at. Even Claire couldn’t help but smile.

“Sydney,” Claire said, feeling awkward. “Good to see you again.” It was not. This did not coincide with the rom-com fantasy.

“Claire,” Sydney acknowledged with wide eyes. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Claire said with a forced smile. “You too.”

“Thanks.”

Adeya had distracted her father into opening one of the freezers so she could peruse the ice cream selection, which left Claire and Sydney, looking at each other in a distinctly unfriendly way.

“It’s nice that you can take all three kids out like this,” Claire said.

Sydney shrugged. “Well, it helps with the twins napping.”

“True. Is it just a nap, or are they reverse cycling?” Claire asked mildly, innocently. “I’ve seen it with patients, so I get how tough that can be to deal with.” Which was a lie, Claire wasn’t an OBGYN or a pediatrician.

“It’s a nap,” Sydney said with a brittle smile. “Perfectly normal.”

“Of course.”

Thankfully, Carmy returned with ice cream and a triumphant, cheering Adeya.

“Mommy,” she said urgently, “Cart.”

Sydney narrowed her eyes at her daughter. “We need three flavours of ice cream?”

“Ya!”

Between Carmy’s sheepish expression and the small but intense frown on Adeya’s face, Sydney seemed to cave. She rolled her eyes again and took the three tubs of ice cream from her daughter.

“This is your fault,” she told her husband sternly. “All you.”

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me!” Carmy defended, grinning.

“And you immediately caved to a look?”

Carmy looked at Sydney meaningfully. “Adeya learned from the best.”

He said that with a wicked fucking grin, and Claire realized that she had failed to take the two hundred openings to get the fuck out of this conversation.

She had to fucking interrupt Sydney, who was spluttering and batting at Carmy’s shoulder, who was still grinning like that.

“Well, it was good to see you both!” Claire said, something sour in her mouth at the way Carmy and Sydney had to be reminded that she was there. “Congrats on your little family.”

“Yours too,” Sydney said sweetly. “Let us know if you need any advice.”

“We’ll be good, thanks.”

“Tremendous.”

“Great.”

“Um, yeah,” Carmy said, looking between them, hopelessly confused. “For sure.”

There was a chorus of goodbyes before Claire could escape, but not fast enough to miss hearing Carmy turn to Sydney.

“What was that about?” he asked Sydney, probably thinking he was being quiet.

“Girl shit,” Sydney replied, not being quiet at all.

Claire had to circle around the store for another few minutes before she could return to the ice cream aisle –her baby having firmly decided how necessary it was– and by the time she reached the checkout, of course so was Carmy and Sydney. She held back, pretending to look at magazines, so she could eavesdrop and watch the seamless way that they communicated with each other and their kids. At one point the twins woke up mid-transaction, and without a word Carmy picked one baby up to hand to Sydney and kept the other in one arm. Adeya slowly pushed the stroller out of the store, Sydney’s free hand hovering behind her, while Carmy carried any of the bags they hadn’t been able to fit in the stroller. It was fucking picturesque.

“Are you, like, ready to check out, or–” said the teenager behind the register, snapping her gum and absolutely judging Claire.

It was stupid, she thought, as she loaded her car up. She didn’t even want Carmy anymore, he was nothing more than a small, insignificant ache buried under the mountain that was the life she had built for herself. Maybe she had never dealt with it properly at the time, maybe she had hidden from it the same way he had. It was the least he could have fucking done to let her play out a shitty cliché from a rom-com–

Fuck, she realized, pulling out of the parking lot and into bumper-to-bumper traffic. He had been the one to play out that fantasy, which he didn’t even deserve. Claire had done nothing wrong; she had done everything right. All of this was on Carmy.

If he had just told her from the beginning that Sydney was a fucking girl’s name, then she would have known something was up.

Something like embarrassment was burning its way up her spine, furious that she had gone up to him in the first place.

Her phone suddenly rang, knocking her out of it, her husband’s name shining on the caller ID.

“Hey, sweetie,” Claire greeted tiredly.

“Hello, my Claire-a-dactyl,” her boisterous and loud husband said. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, “just tired. And hot.”

“It’s bad out there, you must be miserable. You didn’t go shopping, did you?”

Claire had to take a deep breath. “Yes,” she said through gritted teeth. “I told you this morning, remember? Cravings. Girl dinner. I’m just leaving.”

Kevin whistled through his teeth. “Bad timing, my bad–”

“What?” Claire snapped and bless that man because he did not rise to it.

“I got my shift covered,” he said cheerfully. “I also just picked up a disgusting amount of candy, ice cream, popsicles –because really, honey, don’t you get dehydrated eating ice cream in this heat?– and I was going to surprise you, pick you up, and take you to Tommy and Paula’s house–”

“So not in the mood to socialize,” Claire muttered, focusing on how jaywalkers should be put in jail. “Look–”

“They’re on vacation,” Kevin continued, unbothered by her mood. “And their big, empty house, with their big, unheated pool in the shade… well, it’s very lonely–”

Claire moaned at the thought of it.

“–And since we both now have a few days off, I thought we could do them a favour and housesit.”

The tears crowding behind Claire’s eyes were no longer from frustration, but fondness. She was about to have a child; with a man she loved more than anything. Maybe it was time to let go of old fantasies and let herself move on. Maybe she had let people influence her for too long, and she should stop framing her life around that sort of thing. Carmy clearly fucking had. It was annoying that he clearly figured this out first, but he never needed to know that.

Claire-a-dactyl.

Not Claire-bear.