Disclaimer: Both Welcome to Night Vale and its characters created and owned by Joseph Fink and Co., and I do not claim any ownership over them or the world of Night Vale. The story I tell here is my own invention, and it is not purported or believed to be part of Joseph Fink and Co.'s story canon. This story is for entertainment only: no profit will be gained from the creation of this story.

When Scientist Becomes Synonymous With Hero

Summary: Carlos and his scientists need a break and they agree to one month without science. But after enough time without the stress and the fear and the constant running, Carlos, dedicated Carlos, is beginning to wonder if it is worth going back. Its not like the town needs him, right?

Note: Based on the information I have as of Episode 34. StrexCorp is not a thing I want to deal with and, as such, does not exist in this fanfiction yet.

Chapter 1

Decisions

…

A vacation is what you take when you can no longer take what you've been taking.

Earl Wilson

…

It became routine to wake with a scream nestled in the back of his throat, clawing to get out and turning his voice hoarse when he finally beats it back down. Most of the time he beats it back down. But now none of the others come running to his door when he can't unless the scream was accompanied by something breaking. They understood.

After that, he'd go take a shower and wash off the cold sweat, taking care to turn the knob three times to the left, once to the right, and then tickle the head so as to get real proper clear water and not whatever green slush the shower head had taken to sprouting when not appropriately pampered (Olu had been working on figuring out how it worked, but Olu had also finally woken up after a two week slumber and Carlos wasn't too keen on sending him back to work for a while).

Usually, by the time he came down others would be loitering around the kitchen with the coffee machine quietly humming in the background, chugging warm cup after warm cup of caffeine. Most of the time, there was some low chatter; careful not to be too loud in case one attracted something they did not want to the window.

They had made that mistake once when celebrating a good job well done their second week in Night Vale and that was how they'd lost Bonnie. They tried bolting sheets of metal along the window afterwards, but the Sheriff's Secret Police had been quiet…stern in their denial, claimed it was hard to hear past it (for their safety, of course) and so they had replaced the sheets with a gird so sometimes the apartment looked more like a jail then a home which was terribly morbid and bad for team moral so Minnie (whose real name the rest of the team was still trying to guess) had started to twist vines around the bars. The purple and blue vines had been deemed harmless for humans after they had strangled a two-legged Water Serpent with malice intentions after said Water Serpent had broken into their lab. Now the vines doubled as a great security system and something rather pretty to look at.

This time the kitchen was unusually quiet with only the faint muffled sob to break the silence. They had lost Rashida that afternoon to the Sand Wastes during a gas leakage that had sprung up in the convenience store. Mitchell's was the only place to carry Rashida's favorite brand of coconut juice. It was an unfortunate accident. Everyone hoped she'd come back once she found what she needed unlike Charlie.

"Hey, bossman," Olu greeted when Carlos entered the kitchen and made a beeline to the coffee machine.

In her corner, Alex sobbed in greeting. And a few other's waved hello.

"How is Alex holding up?" he dropped his voice to a low whisper.

Olu shook his head.

He cursed softly under his breath. That was always the danger here, wasn't it? Losing loved ones. Losing family. Everyone loved Rashida. She had been the calm one and a bit of a mother hen really. She was the first one to make the shared house really feel like a home. And Alex and her had had their own relationship. How far it had gone, Carlos doesn't know, but he at least knew it was serious.

Looking around the room, he spotted others huddled together in mourning. Their mouths moving in Night Vale's proper ceremonial chants for safe passage or their own religious pleas to their God(s).

When he arrived, he had 15. This morning, he had 7. Now, he has six.

And he was tired. He was bone deep tired. Tired in the way that pushed down on your shoulders and tied cinderblocks to your feet. Tired in the way that made your bones brittle and your thoughts dark and mushy. Carlos was tired in a way that no good night of sleep was ever going to take away and he wanted to rest. He wanted to just close his eyes and get one good night of sleep and he wanted to wake up and have 15 again instead of 6. But both are equally improbable because even death was a constant in Night Vale.

In the corner, the radio turned on by itself and the sound of soft wailing filtered through the room and settled in the air like an uneasy fog.

"Bossman," Olu said after listening to the wails for a few minutes, "I think… I think we need a break."

"Yes… Yes, I suppose you're right."

…

They finished everything that could be done in three weeks (they'd planned for one week which had become two weeks and had almost become four weeks before Carlos noticed that the bags under his eyes had started making him look more malnourished then usual and the other's weren't fairing any better) and shut down all the experiments that couldn't. Then they locked up all their notebooks and illegal writing utensils so as to avoid temptation.

"Are you sure this is for the best," Alex asked, adjusting the straps of her backpack. They agreed not to live in the house during the break so Alex was going to go live with Hussain, Rashida's brother, and Minnie in their rented apartment above the Laundromat, the only place that had always been able to get the bloodstains out without ruining their lab coats (Cecil had recommended them).

Carlos shrugged, "I don't know, but… I don't think it will hurt."

Cecil had said he'd come pick him up as soon as his show was over barring Station Managements wrath or a life-threatening situation that could make leaving the station a little perilous. So far, the evening was rather calm so Carlos hoped he'd be around (according to his watch, though it probably wasn't correct) 8pm.

"Stay tuned for the silence of the night that creeps across your bedroom threshold to smother you in your bed interrupted by the occasional soulless wail.

Good Night, Night Vale, Good Night."

Glancing down at his watch, Carlos made a mental note that the minute hand had skipped fifteen minutes and now reads 7:50pm before remembering that science had been banned for the two weeks and that he really should stop making mental notes about the time.

Outside, a car horn bellowed and Zane woke with a start. "-ish me?"

Peering through the bars, Alex shook her head, "Nah. It's me. See you guys around?"

"How about Friday for Rico's?"

"I'll spread the word," she called out as she head through the door. She was doing much better, Carlos thought, thanks to a spotting of Rashida out in the Scrublands. Hopefully, the fact that Rashida was staying so close to town meant she'd be coming back soon.

Zane groaned. "Hey boss, wake me when mah ride comes, yeah?"

Carlos agreed, "Yeah, I'll wake you."

"You da best," he mumbled before falling back asleep. Zane had been working near nonstop to finalize his thesis on whether or not the cactus water found in the scrublands could be used for medicinal purposes considering their strange, pain-relieving yet poisonous properties, a project that lasted longer than intended because Rashida was no longer there to assist. James and Olu agreed to let Zane rest while they went and finalized their rooms at Josie's. Josie had agreed to let the boys stay in exchange for helping her and the angels around the rather large and extravagant bed and breakfast that had been in her family's possession for a "very, very long time" (a phrase she had uttered in a Cecil-esque tone of despair and haunting followed by a brief silence before asking those gathered if they'd like some freshly made rasin bread for their trip back to the lab).

Carlos went back to watching the door and twiddling his thumbs, not knowing what to do with himself now that he couldn't—wouldn't—do science. He was usually always doing science. He was doing science so often it had but a strain on his relationship and caused other relationships to break. And now here he was, not doing science. It was… it was strange. It was a sort of strange that he wasn't used to because it didn't fit into the Night Vale variant of strange. Rather… it was just a normal sort of strange. Which was stranger than the usual sort of strange he was used to dealing with, and wasn't that fascinating? That he had become so accustomed to this little dessert town that strange and stranger was more defined by personal relative variables instead of a social construct?

He got stuck on this thought for a moment, rolling it around his mind when there was a knock on the door. It took two more knocks to bring him back.

Cecil was here. Time to go.

Waking Zane up to tell him he was leaving, Carlos collected his things (two bags; a box full of books, only some municipal approved; and some of the remaining food in the fridge that the others haven't taken) and opened the door.

"Carlos," Cecil beamed, and that will never stop being flattering nor slightly terrifying.

"Hey, I'm ready to go." Carlos said, shrugging his shoulders to indicate his bags.

"Right, yeah. Okay," Cecil plucked the bags off Carlos' shoulders and picks up the boxes as if they weighted nothing and continued to smile. "Is this it?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

They continued to stand there—Cecil just grinning as if he had never been happier—until Carlos shook his head and chuckles, "Did you bring the car or…?"

"Yes!" Cecil nodded, now blushing purple, turned and hurried to where he'd parked the car.

Carlos followed at a more sedated pace—pointedly ignoring the way Zane was silently laughing at him when he turned to close the door—so that when he arrived at the car, Cecil was practically vibrating with excitement. Quickly glancing around to make sure no one was around—politely ignoring the poorly concealed Sheriff's secret policeman—before leaning over and kissing Cecil. "Missed you."

"Mmmm missed you too," Cecil breathed against his lips, pulling Carlos closer and kissing him again.

Carlos liked the way Cecil kissed, soft but lingering like Cecil was always holding himself back, like…as if he saw Carlos as something fragile that needed to be protected. It was…it was flattering and made his toes tingle. And he tends to end up grinning like a love-stuck idiot when they're done. He could probably kiss Cecil for days. He'd just never had enough time to test that theory.

But now…now he did. Didn't he?

Grinning, he kissed Cecil again and again and again and again. So that they stayed, pressed against the back door of Cecil's car like imagined teenager he sometimes wanted to be during high school, just kissing and enjoying each other's company after not seeing each other for two weeks since Carlos had been terribly busy with science and Cecil had been too understanding (though from the way, his grip tightened and loosened rhythmically, it was obvious the separation had been a strain), until a the honk of Carlos' hybrid startled them apart.

"Go, bossman!" Olu cheered as he leaned outside the window.

On the driver's side, James mimicked throwing up before calling out, "It's like watching your parents kiss."

Carlos laughed as Cecil made strange squeaking noises to his side. How someone who was so at ease with broadcasting their dates on the radio could be so easily embarrassed evaded Carlos.

"Come on," Carlos pulled away and walked to his side of the car and saying loudly to make sure the other's could hear him. "Let's leave before Zane comes out to join the clowns."

"You know you love us, Bossman!"

"Sure I do," Carlos rolled his eyes and closed the car door as Cecil got into the driver side and started the engine.

As they started driving, Carlos grasped Cecil's free hand and closed his eyes, deciding as the thoughts and worries about what he was going to do with his time began to creep back into the forefront of his mind that he was going to take the day as it came. After all, he wasn't a scientist for the two weeks, right? No need to plan ahead like he usually would. He could just … enjoy it?

A/N:

There is a tumblr blog based on this story called wtnv-ask-the-scientists.