Carlos awoke to the smell of honey and pipe smoke, drifting lazily on the night air. The bed beside him was empty, the door to the balcony open just a crack. He rolled out of bed, scratching his head as he wandered towards the door.
"Cecil? It's really late—"
"Don't come out here," a low voice said, cracking slightly in the crisp night air. "Go back to bed."
Carlos peered out the glass doors. Cecil sat with his back to the room, a pipe drooping in his hand, still smoking slightly. He was hunched over the railing, staring down at the town below. "Are you okay?"
"Just fine," Cecil muttered.
Carlos took a cautious step out onto the balcony. "I'm not sure I believe you," he murmured, staring up at the star splattered sky. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Cecil turned, his eyes rimmed with red. He wiped a hand violently across his eyes, refusing to meet Carlos' gaze. "I didn't really want you to see me l-like this," he said quietly, taking a slow drag on his pipe. "And I didn't want to wake you up, so I came out here…" He turned back to the railing, hanging his head. "I had a nightmare."
"Everyone has nightmares," Carlos said quietly, inching towards him. "It's perfectly normal…"
Cecil shook his head. "Not like this….not the same ones every night…."
Carlos pulled a chair up to the balcony, sitting just within arms reach. "Actually recurring dreams are fairly common…it could mean something's really bothering you."
Cecil frowned. "Maybe…" His eyes became unfocused and distant, staring out across the city lights. "It always starts out that I'm walking through Night Vale….and it's deserted. There's no one there, and all the buildings are destroyed. There's just blood everywhere. And I keep walking, and walking, following the trail of blood and eventually I reach the dog park…and everyone's behind the fence just…staring at me with these blank, dead eyes. Everyone's dead, just standing there in the blood and staring at me like it's my fault…and I can feel it, I know it more than anything I've ever known that it's my fault that they're dead….all my interns…all my family…even old woman Josie and the Mayor. Even—" he laughed, hysteria creeping into his voice as he clutched at his hair. "Even Steve Carlsberg is there, and he's looking at me and there's just nothing in his eyes, and there should be so much anger and shame and regret there and there's just nothing. And then they all just turn and walk away, until there's only…until only…"
He looked up, tears welling in his eyes as he stared up at the night sky. "Until you're the only one there. And I run forward to try to get you out, but the dog park has no door, and I try to reach you through the bars but you just stand there, with those dead, dead eyes, and you c-can't hear what I'm saying and I'm screaming your name, and begging you to come back, and I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry—and no matter what i do, you just turn and follow the others, and I can't run after you because the bars just keep getting taller and thicker until I can't see you anymore and you're gone…and I'm left behind…covered in blood…and I just keep screaming to the empty air for you to come back….at least to say goodbye…"
His knuckles were white on the railing, tears streaming down his face as he stared up at the sky. "I don't want to kill you, Carlos…I don't want your blood on my hands…anyone's blood…" He jumped as Carlos rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.
"It was just a dream," he said quietly, pulling Cecil into his arms. "You're not going to kill anyone….are you?"
Cecil frowned. "Directly, no," he said, resting his head against Carlos' shoulder. "It's indirectly that's the uncertain one…"
Carlos was quiet for a moment, rubbing Cecil's back gently. "Well…Night Vale is, you know, kind of a dangerous place," he said slowly. "And I think a lot more people would get hurt everyday if you weren't there to keep them informed on what's happening. You kind of have to keep your head down and your eyes shut to get by from day to day sometimes, and if you don't have someone guiding you through that…" He pressed his lips to the top of his head, closing his eyes. "Night Vale is lucky to have you, Cecil…. And so am I."
Cecil shook his head, but said nothing, his arms wrapping tighter around Carlos' torso. After a moment he shivered and straightened up, clearing his throat. "We should go in, I think. Back to bed, at least. He picked his pipe up off the railing and put it out, pulling Carlos swiftly back towards the bed. Nestled close, Cecil's voice returned in Carlos' whispered name, lips peppering his face with soft kisses and sending him to sleep in an embrace of honey and tobacco smoke.
"No," Cecil murmured, brushing Carlos' hair out of his slumbering face. "I'm the lucky one."
