Fandom: Pan Am
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings/Spoilers/Rating: none || Up to 1x11 || PG
Parings: Dean/Colette and Dean/Bridget.
Summary: Colette talks to Dean after it is revealed what happened with Bridget and Dean in London. Thank you Doro, for helping translate.
Knowing the words that were coming did not stop them from hurting. Each admission caused another twist of the knife that had pierced her fragile heart. Dean recalled his and Bridget's night together in London, a mistake he claimed. She wondered if he told Bridget that their affair was a mistake to. While he spoke, she desperately tried to keep a straight face, refusing to lose her composure. She refused to show him just how much he was hurting her. She cursed herself too; she had fallen for his country-boy charm, and believed his claim that he was different from all the others, when he clearly was not. She cursed herself for listening to Bridget's lies. Letting herself believe Bridget were sick. She had let Bridget in, let her claim her prize. She had told Dean to go to Bridget, told him to resolve their issues so they could move on, instead he had just fallen into Bridgets web of deceit and her bed.
Dean walked away, after realising his apologies were falling on deaf ears. Realising that he could talk but she would not be listening. He had hurt her. He had broken her heart. Just like every other man, she had even fallen for. She had fallen so hard this time, head over heels, and he had left her high and dry.
It was then that Colette saw Bridget, peaking in from the other end of the cabin, with an almost smile on her little pale face. Colette found herself experiencing seldom-felt emotions as she stared at her British colleague. Anger pulsed through her veins. The scarlet red monster that was rage took over her. How could they do this to her? How could they both treat her as if she were nothing. Treat her like she was just a play thing that could be picked up and discarded on a whim.
She did not even realise she was walking down the empty aisle until she reached the galley. Bridget was standing there making small talk with fellow blonde Laura. Kate was watching them, her eyes with her flicking between her friends. Kate was waiting for the grenade to be opened. Kate was waiting for hell to break loose. And boy was it about to break loose.
Colette felt her hands sweating. Her breathing became more frequent and shallower. She felt rouge rush into her cheeks. The rage was not calmed. She tried to calm herself. Tried to reason with herself. She desperately tried to tell herself it was not worth it. An in-flight altercation with another stewardess could cost her job. It could cost her the wonderful life she had built in America. It could cost her everything. Absolutely everything. But as the adrenalin pumped through her, she did not care.
"Colette," Bridget whispered finally acknowledging the French woman's presence. Laura sensing the brewing tension ducked out of the galley, and into the first class cabin to tend to a drunken passenger.
""Fein! Weißt du was, du kannst ihn haben. Du hast gewonnen, Bridget, Dean gehört ganz dir. Ich hoffe, ihr beide werdet glücklich miteinander!" Colette found herself shouting. The words spilled out, in German of all her languages. Harsh and angry German. The words tasted bitter on her tongue. And the gravity of her outburst set in. She rushed out of the galley as fast as her heels could carry her, again trying to hold back her tears that were so close to falling.
"What did she just say?" Bridget asked Kate, who had still not closed her mouth from Colette's surprise and uncharacteristic eruption. "Kate." Bridget prompted; she had to know what Colette had said.
"She said," Kate paused as she checked the translation in her head. Her German was still shaky. She had brushed up on her knowledge since their trip to Berlin. "She said Fine! You know what, you can have him. She said that You win, Bridget, Dean is all yours. She said that she hopes you two will be happy together!"
"Oh," Bridget replied as she leaned against the cupboard. The gravity of Colette's words sunk in. For Bridget had not won, Dean was also not speaking to her. She had lost Colette too. Colette had been her first friend in America, as they had both been brought to America during one of Pan Am's summer tours of Europe to pillage the continent for its greatest prizes. They had been put in the same room during training and become fast friends bonding over both being foreigners in America with all its quirks.
Kate excused herself and followed Colette into the empty economy class cabin. Through her own musings, Bridget could hear Colette trying to stifle her sobs.
Bridget looked in the other direction, Dean had gotten out of the cock pit and was standing in the aisle, with his arms crossed. He watched over scene knowing it was his entire fault. He had screwed up big time, and had no idea how to fix it.
Bridget realised how much of a mess she had made. While she had expected collateral damage in order to get to the greater good, (Dean, of course), it had not worked out how she wanted it. She had just wanted to get her old life back and Dean, but she had ended up neither. She had screwed it all up. It was all broken into pieces that she could never repair. When they landed, she would disappear again. She could disappear and leave Dean to face the consequences.
Disappearing, Bridget thought, she was getting awfully good at that.