A/N: Written for the fabulous folks at the NIGHT VALE COMMUNITY RADIO FB group. Please read and review, and have a safe Valentine's Day!
I don not own the original characters, all right belong to the creators and Commonplace Books.
The sky over Night Vale was a deep, beautiful lilac on the morning of Valentine's Day.
That was the first thing Carlos noticed when he woke up. The second was that he was alone.
Normally, the space beside him was occupied by a very snuggly radio host who stole all the covers. This morning the space beside him was empty, the left side of the bed cold.
Hypothesis: Cecil got up early to make breakfast.
Test: The house did not smell like burnt coffee and gluten-free pancakes.
The only other option he could think of was that Cecil had been called in for some radio emergency. That new Intern Whatsisname was very panicky. It was possible.
He rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. It was fine. Nothing weird ever happened at the radio-
Well. Nothing really weird ever happened-
Nobody ever died at the radio-
Ok, no, none of this was reassuring.
Carlos fished around under the bed for his pants and extracted his cell phone from the pocket. He switched it on, wondering if there would be cell service today.
There was not. Flashing on his screen was a text from the Night Vale Telecommunications Bureau: Due to unforeseen visions of entropy and a two week backlog of calls, all communications via mobile devices have been suspended indefinitely. Please revert to analog options whenever possible. Thank you.
A second text from the Night Vale City Council repeated this message, but in ancient runes.
He still wasn't sure how you could text in ancient runes. It would require a special keyboard, or maybe a translating program-
Focus. Boyfriend. Whereabouts.
What he needed was food, a phone, to find Cecil, and maybe to figure out why the sky was purple, in that order. He would have preferred Cecil be at the top of that list, but apparently that was not to be this morning.
Carlos retrieved his pants and a flannel shirt and padded into the kitchen in search of food and the phone.
(Did they have a phone? Of course they had a phone! Who doesn't have a phone? The real question was, where did he leave it the last time the cell towers were down.)
He grabbed a hard boiled egg out of the fridge neatly labeled "Food" (instead of the one marked "Science (NOT FOOD)" ) and poked through the piles of paper on the kitchen table until he found the landline. Cecil had taped the NVCR office phone number to the phone base. He dialed.
Excuse me. Do you mind? I'm using this phone.
Carlos couldn't find the phone anywhere. He was starting to feel a little panicked. After all, it was Valentine's Day. Last year all kinds of weird shit had gone down, and that was saying something for this town.
The sky was still purple. Even brighter purple, if that was possible.
That settled it. He'd just head over to the radio station himself.
He pulled open the red painted door of their small green stucco bungalow—and was confronted by a wall of whispering darkness.
Damn it. The shadows had grown over the door again.
Carlos retreated a step and read the note taped next to the porch light switch.
"If the shadows have grown over the exits, call Sunrise Watson (whose parents were hippies)"
Back to the kitchen to find the phone.
Can't a faceless old woman get any privacy in someone else's home anymore? Oh my gods, fine, you can use it.
Sunrise Watson (whose parents were hippies) said she'd be right over, and how bad had the infestation gotten? She'd bring the big guns, then.
While he waited, Carlos called the radio station number, to see if Cecil was, in fact, there.
The new intern answered. Carlos tried desperately to remember the boy's name.
"Hi...Dan," he said.
"This isn't Dan. Did you mean Dana? Do you want to talk to Dana?"
"Is she there?"
"No."
"Is Cecil there?"
"No."
"Was Cecil there?"
"About when are we talking, because he's here a lot."
"Just this morning."
"Yes, he was here. He came in to talk to Station Management. Well, actually, to slip a piece of paper under the door and interpret the screams and thumping noises, but it amounts to the same thing."
"Is he all right?"
"He was in one piece when he left."
"Well, thank you...Stan. By the way, do you happen to know why the sky is purple?"
"What are you talking about? The sky is yellow."
"Right. Never mind."
"And my name's not Stan."
"Sorry."
By this time, Sunrise Watson (whose parents were hippies) had arrived and was scything her way through the shadow overgrowth and screeching a lot. She said it helped her work.
Carlos paced the house and recited the elemental table under his breath. Any minute now she'd be done and he could leave and go find-
"Hey."
Carlos spun around. He'd paced himself into the spare bedroom, and there at the window, boosting himself over the sill, was Cecil.
He was barely inside before Carlos wrapped him in a tight hug.
"Where were you? I was worried, and then I couldn't get out of the damn house-"
"Ohhh, so that's what the screeching is about-"
"-And Jan said you'd gone to talk to your boss-"
"Shh. I did. (And it's Intern Van, by the way.) I asked for the day off."
"You what?"
"I asked for the day off. I don't have to go in to work tonight, the interns are going to cover. I wanted to spend the day with you." He kissed him softly in his hair. "The whole day."
"And Management is ok with that?"
"Not sure. We don't have much precedent for Management being ok with things to compare it to, but the lights didn't cut out, and there wasn't any blood, so probably it's all good."
He walked back to the window, leaned out, and pulled in a flat box.
"And then I stopped by Big Rico's to pick up a Pizza That Contains No Wheat Or Wheat By Products for tonight, so we don't have to go out later." He slid the pizza into the "Food" fridge. "Somebody died while I was there, that's why I'm late."
"But you're all right," Carlos said, still feeling the need to reassure himself on that point.
"Let's see," Cecil said mischievously, pulling him in for another kiss. "Yep," he said, several minutes later, "Perfectly fine."
"Oh, umm..."
"Hmm?"
"We probably shouldn't be leaning on the "Science" fridge."
"Good idea. Let's go lean somewhere else, shall we?"
They disappeared back into the bedroom, leaving the kitchen to it's previous occupant.
Finally. You know, your secret admirer keeps calling here. I suggest you call them back. They're running up the phone bill.
Outside ,the shadows had retreated for another day. Tacked to the door frame was a note from Sunrise Watson (whose parents were hippies): "Just put it on my tab, boys. Enjoy your day!"
They did. Later, they enjoyed the evening, and later still, Carlos sat out in the scrubby back yard, pouring wine to go with their Pizza That Contained No Wheat Or Wheat By Products.
Cecil walked out to join him, having pulled on one of Carlos's lab coats over his boxers.
"You know, that really doesn't count as a shirt,"Carlos teased.
"Is it my fault you don't put your clothes away?"
"Cecil?"
"Hmm?"
"Why is the sky purple?"
"Because it's Valentine's Day, love."
Carlos grabbed his boyfriend's hand and tugged him down into his lap, and considered that a very good reason. Or at least, a good enough reason for now.