"I love my Strexxpet, Lauren! It is the cutest! I take it for walks, I throw sticks at it, I tell it my worst secrets, I feed it mice every night before bed. …I've trained it to!"
warnings: frequent time/tense (flashback) jumps, violent and abusive Kevin. (and fyi Kevin uses the Tumblr app too)
enjoy!
The first post was shown to Cecil by a grim-faced Maurine, who later said that it was made around a day before but that everyone felt antsy and regretful about having to eventually show him. Still, it was more strongly felt that he should see it.
That was days ago. There have been more posts since then, with twelve in all, and the latest having been made two minutes and seventeen seconds ago. Cecil refuses to follow the obnoxious tag Kevin had made for these terrible photos - "Kevinlos," but he still nevertheless, of course, can't help but check the tag (and the blog, the only blog that actually uses the tag) sporadically because how can he not. How can he not check that webpage when his beloved boyfriend has not much choice but to passively take selfies with someone who, for all intents and purposes, is a monster.
Kevin had held his camera phone far from his face so that Carlos - diligent Carlos - could be seen behind him, sitting cross-legged on the desert sand and crouched over a meter and a notepad, taking down notes with a pen that he probably hadn't used in the longest time being that pens were banned during the time he was in Night Vale. "still hanging out with my new best friend! :)" wasn't close to the most disgusting caption Kevin had made in the last few days. Cecil is still boiling over that one selfie he'd seen last night when Kevin had placed his gross face too close - almost cheek-to-cheek - to Carlos, and writing, "i think the two of us look GRAND together"
"The show starts in, like, ten minutes," says Maurine, who Cecil hadn't heard come in because he was too busy trying to remember the prayers to summon a forbidden deity who he'd read, as a child, would grant the wish of whoever would one day free them, and Cecil has a very specific wish at the moment. "You should calm down or something. Do you want me to hold your phone for you?"
"No, Maurine, no," he tries to sound gentle and collected. Maurine gives him a Look, the kind she's been giving more frequently as of late, the kind that tells him that he is being the opposite of professional, which probably means he didn't sound gentle or collected at all.
"At least he isn't hurt," she points out, something she's also been doing often since Cecil has been more-or-less stalking Kevin's blogged-about desert life. It always manages to calm Cecil down considerably if not completely. He feels some tension fade, and she goes on with something she hasn't pointed out before. "Actually, this means we have two sources now to monitor his progress with - Carlos himself, and Kevin. The second one isn't as great of an idea, but it's more!"
She ends it like a question. Cecil works to get himself to nod at her words, tries to do it slowly and sagely and very much like a mature adult, and he knows he just ends up giving something like a curt tick of his neck and head. Maurine moves slowly then as she sighs, giving Cecil all the chance to stop her from getting his phone, lifting it from the desk, and dropping it into her pocket.
Cecil's fists and crossed arms tighten, restraining themselves from objecting. This isn't the first instance he's had to have his phone confiscated; even before Carlos was trapped in the desert, he's had to have interns hold onto his phone to keep from texting him, and even before Carlos, he's had his phone relinquished to avoid him from interrupting traffic reports so that he could let the whole town know that one of the fanfics he's been following finally updated.
It feels harder now, though. Not as terrible and horrifying as the first time Maurine handed him her phone and showed him the first picture post and he promptly ran around for over an hour, roaring into Carlos's voicemail and begging for him to confirm that he was alright, and at the Secret Police as well as the Menacing Government Agency to do something to try and find and save his boyfriend. Cecil doesn't know if he could have stopped himself from that frenzy of angry fear had Carlos not texted and called saying that he was, indeed, alright, and healthy, despite being followed by the pin-up boy for cheap gore horror movies.
"We're the only two people here," Carlos had said from the other end of the line after helping Cecil to gather himself again, after those who Cecil had raged at stopped shifting in place and had given up side-eyeing him warily, after they had stopped speaking to him in voices that tried to be soothing but that had begun to sound too hard and warning. "Kevin is…really passive. I don't think he knows any other way to escape other than to follow me around and hope I find one. So, I don't think he's going to hurt me. But trust me; I'll do whatever it takes to take care of myself."
Carlos never met Kevin, never had to hold off Cecil's double from tearing at his face and twisting his wrist, and Cecil couldn't verbally reply to Carlos's promise - only grimaced, knowing that telling Carlos how strong Kevin could be would be both pointless and needlessly disheartening.
"Robert is coming with tea," says Maurine after thinking to put Cecil's phone on silent. Three more minutes until airtime. "And Josie - Old Woman Josie - she sent in some sweets for us, for you, and says they're for helping you get through this rough patch you have with Carlos. She says not to worry too much, and that one of the muffins is bitter, and one of them is so spicy that you're gonna want to save the milk for when - when - you eat that one, and that it will happen during your broadcast. Take care."
"I'll tell her 'thank you,'" Cecil replies, and can't bring himself to smooth his tie and hair or drink a glass of water even as Maurine leaves and as Robert sets the snacks out next to Cecil and as he introduces the night's show with, "Violence…is sometimes the answer. If there is a will, there is hopefully a way to open a portal, break the fabric of the universe, and beat someone's teeth out of their mouths regardless if they are in another dimension, and afterwards rescue your loved one as you leave your enemy alone to suffer under the hot sun and the empty landscape. Welcome to Night Vale."
Kevin introduced himself and didn't know how to stop being the Desert Bluff's impression of friendly.
"Hold still; oh my gosh!" He squealed, and it was with that tone and with him taking out his phone and aiming the camera right at Carlos's face while he attempted to keep Carlos from moving away that Carlos thought, well, fine, he can deal with this, he can work around it; Kevin just wants a picture. Somehow, Kevin's enthusiasm - however rough and physically painful - over certain features Carlos has - his "perfect teeth," his "smooth, strong neck" - reminded him, for better or worse, of the face Cecil sometimes got when he looked at Carlos. Not too odd, being that they are doubles of each other.
Kevin's phone clicked, and he promptly let Carlos go, his hand sliding over his neck and shoulder before Carlos balked away. Kevin did something like smile at that - at least Carlos observes that the movements of Kevin's mouth did approximations of the movements faces did when they smile - and otherwise continued playing with his phone.
"I thought you were the ugliest thing," Kevin admitted moments afterward as they were walking together, Carlos far from resigned at being shadowed by something Cecil, of all people, once described as "vile" and "contemptuous" when he hadn't been that harsh even with the giant worm that had attempted to devour the Night Vale elementary school last season. "I don't know what Night Vale saw in you. But now, I don't know, maybe you can be perfect. Maybe with a haircut, or a trim, or something, and with contacts or lasik instead of those bulky things…"
Carlos didn't know what Kevin meant by that, what could have brought that on, but that night, after having to console Cecil, he looked over Kevin's shoulder as the man settled down to rest, his phone out and open to his gallery, where the photo being oogled at was none other than Carlos's "perfect" teeth.
"To be honest, Carlos dear," Kevin says now, sitting too close to Carlos, blocking the light from his notes, "I'm not really eager to go back home. Are you? I don't mean Night Vale, but wherever the forces that kicked us out of where we don't belong think we should be. How bad could it be, really, to stay here for the rest of our lives? For the rest of existence? Think about it, Carlos! You and me!"
Kevin's smiles are becoming less and less stretched, less forced, more droopy and less like a smile but, to Carlos, they somehow seem less artificial, even if not at all genuine yet. Carlos gives an answer he thinks Kevin already expects, saying that he's going back to Night Vale regardless, and Kevin's smile is still and solemn and knowing - knowing how Carlos feels about staying with him. Carlos can't afford to feel remorse for someone so untrustworthy, though.
"Why didn't you accept the offer to work at Strexx," is what Kevin mumbled hours earlier. Carlos looked up from his meter to squint at Kevin's smile. "I mean the Desert Bluffs location. I mean with me. I mean, imagine that, Carlos - us, having worked together, for what? A year? Two years?"
He heard the wistfulness in Kevin's voice, or he saw it in how Kevin had started to slouch, or he felt it coming off of Kevin, or inferred it from the context of his speech. Even earlier than that moment, Carlos had begun humoring Kevin's small requests, Kevin's small breaks in the silence, because what else could Carlos do, and what would Kevin do if he refused. "That labcoat is dreadful, Carlos. It's dirty and too long. Take it off, Carlos?" "Stay still; this is going on my blog. Stay still, and please smile!" "Take this! Just think of me ripping it from the hem of my shirt as a sign that we're friends now. See, its even clean. Bloodless. Boring, if you ask me - plain - but I've seen how you look at my clothes stains, so I'll be considerate. Use it to tie that messy, unkempt hair from your face, please; you'll look much better that way. Honestly, Carlos," he laughed good-naturedly, "The minute I find something sharper than sand or a blunt rock, I'm going to cut all the excess hair right off!"
"Well, I don't mind," Kevin replies now, bringing his knees up and holding them in front of him, his phone beside the few things Carlos was able to keep from Night Vale before them. "We don't get hungry easily, we don't get tired easily! We don't have enemies, look! Nothing to fight, not anymore," Kevin goes quiet. Carlos doesn't answer when Kevin looks at him with eyes that don't seem to be there and says, "Only us."
"And where is he now?" Cecil asks Carlos over the phone, staring at Khoshekh resolutely for some sense of levity. "Can he hear us?"
"No, I don't think so. I'm pretty far away." Carlos doesn't sound dehydrated on the phone, which is good. The town has been continuing the system they've used to help keep Dana fed by catapulting food and drinks over the fence of the Forbidden Dog Park, not knowing if it would still work, but Carlos did say that he and Kevin found a lone, unopened water bottle on the ground since then, so. "I've been keeping my eye on him, like you've said I should. Nothing bad has happened. Cecil, you should probably know: I was wrong about what I said before. He doesn't want to leave. He doesn't want to go back home."
"Did you ask him if he'd still feel that way if only you weren't there with him," Cecil doesn't inquire. He probably doesn't want to know the answer. "Well, he certainly isn't welcome here," he also chooses not to say, because even though it's true, he'd rather Carlos come back to Night Vale with a lone Desert Bluffs citizen that, as an individual, he and the Police and the Government can probably control anyway than for Carlos to not come back at all.
"Why not," Cecil finally decides to ask.
He probably can think of over a dozen answers to his own question though, to be honest. Carlos answers, "He says he thinks it's more peaceful here." Then, "As long as it stays that way. You know, Cecil, I've been making a lot of progress studying this place. There are spots where if you just take one step, the temperature is drastically different, you can hear the wind pick up noises you couldn't from another step away. Cecil, I think this desert can potentially connect not just to Night Vale, but other places as well. I know just that isn't enough to get out of here, but it's something, definitely."
Cecil waits for it. "I get so happy when I make progress," Carlos says, and Cecil feels himself start to smile, even if it might be small and strained. "It can be lonely, and sometimes frightening, both despite and because of the company, and I get so sulky sometimes when time goes by, and keeps going by, and I've learned nothing new or useful yet. But I think of you. I can't lose hope."
"I love you," Cecil replies, keeps himself from saying another redundant, "I'm sorry; I wish I could help you," or another, "Remember to leave him behind as soon as you can."
"I love you too."
Carlos dictates more observations to Cecil; all the better for when Cecil relays that information to the town so that someone might be able to help. In between, they swing to attempting and briefly succeeding in talking to each other like they always have before going to bed, with mundane banter on food, did you pray to the bloodstones already, what to do with the dead rodents littered around Khoshekh despite him not having moved, brushing teeth, and Carlos asking how the radio station and lab and town was, is Cecil taking care of himself, is Cecil talking to someone about this besides Carlos, is he with proper support. It became all the more important since, what is approximately to Carlos and what is longer to Cecil, three days ago.
Carlos feels his back, more vulnerable without the labcoat now tied by the sleeves around his waist, start to tingle, and he knows Kevin is, for some reason (Carlos has a hypothesis; he hopes it isn't true), growing impatient, wants Carlos to sit with him for the night again before they may or may not fall asleep. Carlos does a good job ignoring him. He cannot make himself too available or resigned to Kevin; to his displeasure, Carlos has a feeling Kevin would take that kind of acceptance The Wrong Way.
Instead, Carlos sits down where he is, waiting for Cecil or himself to fall asleep on the phone. He's already feeling drowsy himself, relaxed from Cecil mumbling in his ear, probably near sleep as well, when Kevin leans over and presses the End Call button for him.
Carlos hadn't even felt himself lie down, but now he props himself up on his elbows, feeling himself glare at Kevin, who only widens his smile. In the dark, he almost looks like Cecil getting ready for bed beside him, but the image only makes Carlos more miffed at having the conversation with his boyfriend get cut off prematurely.
"You've never done that before," Carlos broaches. He's not yet ready to run away from Kevin if his hypothesis is correct, the one he never wants to test; he doesn't know how to get from one plane of existence to another, to open a door or rip in an area that doesn't, for a few seconds, feel or sound or smell anything like a vast desert. There aren't that many places to hide from Kevin if Carlos feels the need to run away.
Kevin shrugs helplessly, brings his shoulders and arms and knees closer to himself and says with that smile, "I got lonely." He comes down, and Carlos tenses and doesn't unwind even as Kevin's face passes his, and he simply lies down beside Carlos, unseen eyes and face turned to Carlos expectantly, too many teeth illuminated by the moonlight.
Carlos seriously considers walking away. Kevin's hand is heavy on his shoulder, then, and Carlos is pushed down. "Rest," Kevin says, or orders, not moving his arm, and Carlos takes a chance; doesn't fight or outright object, but turns to look at Kevin and make sure he knows that Carlos is collected, is thinking, is hopefully not letting his fear show on his face.
"I'm uncomfortable," he says, waiting for Kevin's smile to falter just a little, for the easy strength in his arms to falter just a little. Something does falter; the hold becomes significantly less easy, and Kevin shuffles closer.
Kevin dismisses, his voice deeper and thick, "That's fine," his arm shifting over to hold Carlos's arm down as they both hear a phone vibrate.
Carlos wonders if Kevin started posting pictures of them out of spite or petty vengeance against Cecil and doesn't let himself continue wondering if now it's grown to mean something else, something more. The last photo was of Kevin stretching his arm out again, up, and he was able to catch a shot of him holding Carlos's hand as they kept walking through the desert, one of them with a face - as it does in every picture they've taken together, as it does with Cecil as well - that is blurred as though the camera couldn't catch the movement of Kevin's head, with the only detail apparent being that the blurred face was, indeed, smiling a wide - impossibly wide - smile, and the other, Carlos, never having smiled at all. In a few of the pictures Kevin's taken, however, he had asked Carlos to smile, to which Carlos already knew what he really meant, and so had grimaced, reluctantly displaying his teeth to the camera.
His phone vibrates in his pocket. It's probably from Cecil, probably "I love you." Kevin's hold on his hand tightens and starts to hurt. Carlos takes the first opportunity he has at an escape as calmly and subtly as he can, making his face relax and his voice not sound too eager as he suggests that they split up to investigate the large structure they come across.
"It definitely looks made. Maybe man-made." Maybe made from the M.I.A. desert army, maybe from a great landscape beast. Carlos reaches out and feels its smooth texture, inspects its openings - one large enough to walk into, though it's hard to tell what's inside with how dark it seems. "Possibly rectangular too; we'd have to walk around all sides to see. We could use our phones as lights if it's safe enough to enter its mouth."
Kevin finally lets go of his hand, and Carlos doesn't hesitate to wipe the shared sweat off on his clothes even if it does seem rude. He walks towards the nearest corner of what may or may not be a building when Kevin asks, "What's in your labcoat pockets, Carlos?"
Carlos pauses, Kevin stepping up right beside him, already peering into the deep sacks of his coat. "Not much, unfortunately. I keep the danger meter in there," he says, gesturing to the device already in his hand, which has been on the higher end of the scale since Kevin's arrival, making Kevin a rather biased factor in its readings. "I have a notepad, a couple of pens, but don't tell anyone. I kept the water bottle even though it's empty; same for the candy wrap-"
Kevin unties the coat from Carlos's waist and dumps the contents of his pockets onto the sand. Carlos gets the gist of what Kevin is up to only after he's crouched down and tried to gather the items into his arms. His labcoat is crumpled and rolled into a tight ball in Kevin's hands as he strides to the mouth of the structure, and Carlos barely gets out a word of protest before his coat is flung inside, almost completely into the darkness. Carlos doesn't make a move to go after it.
"I can be smart too, see?" Kevin pumps his chest out, props his hands on his hips. Carlos's face scrunches up at that as he observes his labcoat, vulnerable and defenseless, out of his reach. "Those chunky glasses can go next, Carlos."
"Go throw in something of your own!" Carlos snaps, not taking his eyes off from his coat, but he hears Kevin giggle in reply. Carlos's teeth mash together at knowing he was successfully goaded into a heated reaction, and tries to make up for it with, "If anything happens to my coat-" which he says in a tone that's still admittedly irritate, "-we'll throw in the water bottle for additional observation."
"Of course," Kevin hisses, gleeful, patronizing. Carlos doesn't see his coat move or be moved, but he and Kevin don't even wait for a minute before Carlos finds that he can't see the contours of his coat at all anymore.
The darkness shifted around it, he thinks, and voices this observation. "I can't see it anymore. Is there another sentient thing inside?"
"What are you talking about, dear? It's still right there," Kevin casually leans on the wall of the entrance, crossing his arms and legs comfortably. "I can see it perfectly well."
Carlos doesn't understand, but remembers Cecil saying something about the possibility of Kevin being able to See things no one else can, remembers the countless of times Carlos had thought Cecil could see things that weren't observable to Carlos. Omnipresence, or a sixth sense; it might make sense for his double to have something similar as well. "What do you mean, you can see it perfectly well?"
"Your labcoat is fine," Kevin impatiently reassures. "Getting a little cold, a little alone, but it's there and it's fine. Don't know how safe it is in there, though. How about I get the water bottl-"
Carlos is already stepping inside when he snips, "I'll check it out." He hears Kevin's sharp inhale - whether from wanting to object or from offense at being interrupted, Carlos doesn't stop to check. Whatever Kevin's ability, there was a hint of it being cold in the desert, or there being a spot in this vast space where one could be alone - alone from others, alone from one of the only two people Carlos has seen in here. Carlos shuffles into the darkness for his labcoat.
Kevin calls out from the entrance in a tone that is unnervingly sing-song. "Carlos? Will you be in there long?"
"I don't know," Carlos answers, can practically feel Kevin's displeasure. He can't find his coat or feel it from where it was, and he turns around to look at Kevin's silhouette against the bright desert day shining into the unnatural cave. "Can you still see it, Kevin? Because I can't; it isn't here."
The answer is drawn out, slow, and makes Carlos thinks of pointed, artificial smiles growing wider, or a dagger sliding out of a sheath. "Are you playing with me, Carlos?"
So, Carlos answers hastily, "I'm almost done." Which, hopefully, in terms of his time spent in the desert with a vindictive companion, is true. He walks in deeper still, his danger meter softly buzzing with more frequency in his hand, which Carlos considers but truthfully thinks is ironic, because what could be more dangerous than the violent double of your boyfriend standing guard behind you and possibly starting to crush a horrible kind of crush on you. He is, hopefully, almost done with this attempt at getting away.
He reaches out until he feels the right wall, keeps walking until his hand slides from it and holds onto nothing as he reaches a corner, turns, and half expects Kevin to call out, "What about your labcoat, Carlos," but he doesn't. It is silent as Carlos keeps going, more silent than the desert outside even when Kevin wasn't talking, even with the meter vibrating with him. It is silent, still, as he feels another corner but gives it up, lets go and just walks ahead with his hand in front of him. Blessedly, it starts to feel cooler. He starts to hear wisps and breezes and drafts of things he thinks are voices.
He could use his cellphone to light the path, but maybe later. No need to broadcast his exact location to Kevin so soon.
[Image: A down-to-up shot of a stone, brown square, looking almost like a two-story building, in front of a desert background.]
Caption: Dear Carlos and I found a clue! He seems lost though. I'll go in and help him like a good friend. :)
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Anonymous said: Hold it! It doesn't look safe in there. You should wait until Carlos says it's alright to go inside before doing something reckless. Anything else is vveeeerrrryyyyyyyyyyyy irresponsible.
Reply: Aha! Silly me, friend! You bring up a good point, but I must confess, I'm SO UNEASY about leaving Carlos in there by himself. He has such weak eyes, you wouldn't believe! I feel like I would be the more effective candidate to investigate dark places. I should save Carlos from his own recklessness, you see.
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Anonymous said: Carlos can take care of himself.
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Anonymous said: Don't save him! He's going to betray you, just leave him alone. Leave him there to fend for himself! You're better off without him!
Reply: LOL! My goodness, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for worrying about me~ But really, your worries are unneeded! Believe it or not, I am actually happier making this journey with my new friend even though I know his loyalties are not correct at the moment. He's just so fun to be with! He listens to me talk about my problems, I tell him my secrets - how can I not fall a little bit in love with him and his grinding, perfect teeth? You understand that feeling more than anyone, don't you, Cecil?
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