"And so, with heavy eyes and still beating hearts, those left at the Alright All Night Extravaganza have started to leave, too exhausted to continue to dance, even as the music continues. There are no reports of it intending to stop, and after so many people danced themselves to death in the early hours, the latecomers are making a good decision. As for the robot, well, if music be the food of love, play on. Tune in next for the sounds of heavy breathing, and the undeniable feeling that you're being watched. Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight."
~o~o~
It had been several months, and they'd stopped calling him. He was alright, he promised he was alright, he insisted in a gruff and grumpy voice that he was alright and that nothing was wrong and that everything was in fact fine, and there was nothing much more the people of Night Vale could do, really. Cecil wasn't distraught, at least not visibly or around those that cared, and didn't need anyone's help - the burden of his loss was his alone to bear, and he was dealing fairly okay with it, at least in public. No one knew how he fared when he was alone, but it wasn't their business, really.
It was a late hot, muggy evening, classic Night Vale weather, and Cecil was heading home. He had to get home soon, as he was expecting a call when he arrived - at nine o clock sharp, which was more or less the only time Carlos called, no matter when he dialed. He could dial an hour after a call and speak to Cecil twenty-four hours later, because for some reason his phone kept perfect time - Night Vale time, anyway. It had been a particularly hard day - a dancing robot killed several people, and every slow song Cecil felt his heart break a little harder, because in any other circumstance he would have been dancing with his boyfriend in the studio - and as the minutes ticked closer to home, Cecil was ready for the evening call to his boyfriend.
It was 8:15 by his car's clock as he pulled into the driveway. His place - his and Carlos's place, mind you - was somewhere between a house and an apartment, small and a definitely better alternative to a condo, and there were no lights on the front stoop as he keyed inside. It was cold, as Cecil liked it. Cold and dark and full of shadows that were haunting in the midnight hours. He didn't bother to turn on a light, passing a tower of books stacked on the kitchen table. He checked his phone - 8:30. He still had time - he could make a cup of coffee, or fix a snack to keep him awake, something for after the call was finished.
Well, he thought he did, but just then, his phone rang. It was odd, because no one dared call Cecil after eight these days, as Cecil was usually generally against the idea of being held up into Carlos's call time. No one made him miss that call, and especially on a night like tonight. But lo, it was ringing, and he was so ready to get this person off his line, and his phone... read Carlos's number? Immediately, Cecil flipped the thing open.
"Carlos?" Cecil tried not to sound slightly panicked - this didn't happen, it just didn't. They had a schedule. Carlos never called early. It wasn't possible, even for Night Vale standards - they'd proven that it was only nine, and no other time.
"Cecil-" Carlos was in and out, part static, part slight panic. "I don't- what's going on, I- sick to my sto-" The phone hissed a long moment, before returning, "-Dizzy, light headed-"
"Carlos, you're-you're breaking up." Cecil tried, speaking loudly, like maybe if he was louder Carlos would hear him better. "Carlos?" He was scared, honestly so scared, because Carlos had been nearly taken twice now and Night Vale wasn't so forgiving, so it was only a matter of time before Carlos was gone permanently.
"Cec- I'm sink- I- breath- I love-!" With a hiss, and a crackle, the phone went dead. It was quiet for a long moment, deathly so, as Cecil simply stared at his phone. This was it, this was his worst nightmare. He had come to terms with Carlos existing only in the desert void, knowing that at least there Carlos was alive, but now... he was gone. Gone for good. And he didn't get to say goodbye, didn't get to say he loved him, nothing. All he had left was a phone. Just a phone. He clutched at it, grip threatening to break it - which said a lot, it was a Nokia after all - and forced back the surge of grief that bubbled in his throat like hot lead. He fought it, and he didn't know why, it just felt right to fight it, bite it back, keep it at bay. The phone case creaked a little.
And then it rang again. Cecil slowly looked up at it, almost angry now, that welling grief slipping into brief hatred, arms all tense and ready to fling the phone... but it was Carlos. Again. Mood suddenly shifting from anger to panic, he struggled to flip it open, hands shaking now, tears slipping from his eyes unwanted.
"Ce-" The phone was still crackling, broken static more prominent now.
"Carlos!" It was, in fact, Carlos he was hearing, or maybe a ghost - though ghosts generally had their own phone carriers and didn't take their numbers to the grave with them - but it was Carlos's voice none the less, and that was a welcome sound. "What happened, you just hung up. I... I thought you were dead." It was a heartfelt admittance, and a request, that he wasn't dead, and that he was really calling and not a ghost.
"I don't- what happened, I-" Carlos coughed, and it was clear from what could be heard that he wasn't okay, but he was alive. It was clear he was tired, and hurt, and feeling unwell. "I'm lost- I see... sand." He groaned over the phone, the connection crackling and threatening to break them up again. "My phone-dying-think-home-" It slipped into a long moment of static, before coming back slightly clearer than before. "It smells... like home-feels- home, feels right. Can... you come get me?" He was meek, exhausted, and Cecil was already out the door as he spoke. It was... wonderful. Worrying, of course, Carlos sounded awful, but wonderful, just fantastic, and Cecil was at a loss for words for a long moment, which was rare for him.
"S-Sure." He couldn't help the softness to his voice, nor could he hide the hiccup of suppressed tears. "I'll... I'll find you." Cecil nodded, hands shaking too hard to open the door, fist clenched against the metal. "I'll... I promise, I'll find you."
"I think-sand wastes." Carlos murmured, sand shuffling over the phone. "I see- sandworm. Small sandworm." He was fading, it was easy to tell he was fading, energy dying quickly.
"I'm on my way right now. Just. Stay awake, okay?" After taking a moment to let his hands shake a little less, Cecil was in the car, engine purring softly - literally purring - as he sped out into the sand wastes, speeding so fast that the Sherriff's Secret Police probably couldn't catch him. And god help them if they did, because nothing was getting between the radio host and the scientist. Nothing. "Stay on the phone with me. I'll be right there, I just need you to stay on the phone."
"I-feel well." Carlos murmured. "Phone almost dead. But-try, for you." It was almost possible to hear a smile in Carlos's tired voice, even as his phone audibly yelled at him that it was dying.
"Please try." Cecil forced a smile, so it would carry over the phone. At least he hoped it would - that's how the radio station worked, anyway. "I'll be there shortly, okay? Just hang on a moment longer."
"Cecil, I-" Carlos sounded urgent, energy forced into his voice. "Sorry, its-" And the phone went dead again, for a second time this evening. But that was better than the first. Cecil knew he was going to have a slight issue finding Carlos with his phone being dead, of course, as the wastes were wide and wild, but it wasn't going to stop him. Not even a smiling god could stop him.
The sand of the wastes was silver in the half moonlight, the cacti dark foreboding figures dotting the landscape like sentinels in the dunes. His car only capable of going so far into the wastes, Cecil was forced to hoof it to go further, deeper, and he had to. He had one clue - the sandworms, mutated reptiles that burrowed in the dunes and lived only at the far reaches of the wastes - that spurred him on, still clutching desperately at the phone he hoped would ring one more time.
He searched for hours, almost the entire night, before he found Carlos, tucked into the bottom of a dune a few miles outside the wastes proper. The poor thing was half buried in the sand, legs covered by the particles blown in on a harsh desert North wind that bit at Cecil's arms and face. It was hard getting down to him, the sand shifting wildly under Cecil's feet and nearly sending him head over heels, instead sliding him down the dune feet first. He scrambled up, crawling over to the half buried scientist. Carlos looked in bad shape. Something had beaten the hell out of him, his perfect jaw bruised, his perfect hair mussed and sandy. He had a swelling right eye, and sand had congealed over cuts on his cheeks and nose. His glasses were gone, probably buried in the shifting sands, and his lab coat was torn at the bottom. Cecil gently shifted the scientist into his lap, checking his forehead with his hand even as Carlos stirred.
"You came." The scientist's lips were chapped, and his voice hoarse. "I knew you would."
"Nothing could have stopped me." Cecil replied, brushing the bangs from Carlos's forehead and running his hands through the sandy hair. "We should get you home. You have a fever." Cecil shifted, getting a footing under him so he could stand. "Can you walk?"
"I don't know." Carlos smiled, his teeth still perfect, and tried to shift his legs under him. He grimaced, obviously hurting from somewhere as he put weight on his right leg, letting Cecil guide him to his feet. "I think so." He nodded. "I think I fractured my right tibia. But it's not bad." He shifted his weight up, trying so hard to help Cecil carry him up the unstable dunes, but having little effect. Cecil didn't mind carrying his boyfriend, of course, but even he was ready to admit getting up that first dune was a struggle and a half. Once up, it was mostly flat, and they could hobble at half the pace Cecil searched at.
"Can I ask... what happened?" Cecil finally spoke again, the wind now much harder at their backs. "You called... early. At eight thirty. And then just hung up." Cecil kept a hand firmly on Carlos's back, mostly for support but partially just to remind himself that Carlos was even there. "I thought you were gone for good."
"Cecil." Carlos smiled, his tone a tired, half chide. "You know a scientist is always fine. And I am a scientist." He nodded, softly. "It's interesting I managed to call early, though, scientifically speaking, because the desert behind the doors was behaving strangely all day. When I punched in your number, it was weird, I just felt... strange all of a sudden. Like I was seasick. Dizzy and sick to my stomach, you know, from the inner ear imbalance. Except nothing was moving, and I'd been on level ground for days. And when I reached you, the phone reception went out almost entirely, and the ground just... opened up, and I fell into it." Carlos shrugged as best he could. "I blacked out, and when I woke up I was here."
"You knew you were here, and not the desert." Cecil half asked, smiling a little. "How did you know?"
"Well, for one thing, my battery wasn't full anymore." Carlos chuckled. "That, and I... just knew. I could just tell. It was like walking into the house after a really long day at the labs - I didn't realize Night Vale has a smell to it until I'd been gone. It's very distinct. It's the only town I know that has a smell to it."
"What does it smell like?" Cecil was honestly curious as, having never left Night Vale (except for Svitz, of which he didn't remember details like smells), and not planning on it in the future, he wouldn't ever get to experience this smell.
"Like... home." Carlos sighed the phrase, partly for affect and mostly because he was exhausted beyond compare. He was leaning on Cecil heavily, and his eyes were drooping, brow furrowed like concentrating enough to walk pained him. After that, he didn't speak again, and Cecil didn't press him to, only holding him a little tighter around the middle, like he might disappear entirely if he let go.
They walked like this for several hours, during which time Carlos slipped in and out of consciousness, making Cecil half drag him at some points. Eventually, they reached the car, with the dark morning sun just barely touching the horizon. Exhausted and unable to dig for his keys with one hand, Cecil helped Carlos to sit on the hood, and, after a moment - in which he found his keys - he sat down next to him. Carlos was mostly conscious, but leaned heavily on Cecil's shoulder as they sat. "You know," Cecil started, softly. "I never thought I would get to see another sunset, let alone a sunrise, with you again." He reached up, running his fingers through Carlos's hair. "I don't know what brought you back, but I am never letting anything take you away again."
"Don't say that." Carlos was drifting off, so his speech was slightly slurred. "If I can't ever go back there again, then I can't prove that it's scientifically there, 'cause you gotta science things a lot of times to... prove it's science." And with that, he was asleep, out like a light against Cecil's shoulder. Cecil chuckled.
"Of course." He shook his head, the better knowing parent agreeing for the sake of the child, fond and sweet. "Let's go home." He had to work to lift Carlos from the car, as he was the smaller of them, but he eventually got Carlos into the passenger seat and slipped into the driver's seat, starting his engine and letting it idle for a moment, the sun pink against the sands. "Let's go home."
The drive was long, and when the car pulled back up at the house it was light again, the sun tickling the roadways with warm light. Carlos had slept the ride, occasionally murmuring to himself and looking worried in a bad dream most of the way, and while Cecil was capable of getting Carlos into the car by himself, he was incapable of getting him out of the car. So gently, he shook Carlos awake, and the scientist took a long moment to come back to reality. "Carlos, we're home." Cecil said, keeping his hand on Carlos's shoulder like an anchor, like maybe Carlos wasn't all there anymore, and he didn't entirely come back, and he needed help staying.
"Home." Carlos smiled, leaning back against the seat. "Good." He closed his eyes, and Cecil shook him again.
"Come on, stay awake a moment longer." Cecil chuckled, quickly getting out of the car and opening Carlos's door. "I need your help."
"A scientist is always ready to help." Carlos reached up, letting Cecil support him like a child as he clamored out of the car, nearly toppling them both on his weak, broken legs. Once out of the car, it was not too hard to half drag Carlos to the stoop, up the stoop, and to the door. Carlos pressed his head against Cecil's neck, blocking out the light with a disgruntled hum as Cecil wrestled with the door, finally shoving it open.
"You feeling alright?" Cecil asked, concerned, leading Carlos slowly into the room, the scientist's head unmoving against his neck.
"Dizzy." He said, eventually pulling his head away, lifting it slowly and unsteadily. He hadn't been in the house in months, but not much was different. They hadn't really... decorated much, as neither of them had any idea how to decorate a home, nor the spare money to afford having someone do it for them - and, since the only interior decorator in Night Vale was a Pekinese with a fashion complex and a high pitched voice, and since Carlos insisted that it doesn't matter how well she matches her scarves to her fur, dogs are in fact color blind and she definitely identifies as a dog I asked her, they would have to get someone from out of town it would be doubly expensive - but it looked like home anyway. Clean, sparse, books stacked twenty high on the table, kitchen mostly untouched, but a cake sitting perfect under glass on the counter... "You haven't been sleeping." Carlos said, being led to his ratty armchair and sitting in it, glad to take weight off his leg.
"No, not really." Cecil couldn't lie, not like that, not then, so he went for the truth as he fetched enough medical supplies to tidy his boyfriend up. "Not that I didn't try, I just... couldn't." He returned, med kit in hand, sitting beside the armchair and realizing that bruises are really hard to do much about. At least he could clean the cuts on Carlos's face. Carlos didn't question further, partly because he couldn't move his face while Cecil cleaned it and partly because they'd gone that road before. Cecil was very tight lipped about his sleeping problems, and never wanted to talk about it. It was something he had been dealing with long before Carlos came into his life, and all the scientist knew was that for some reason, he helped Cecil sleep. That was as far as he got in a conversation before the radio host shut down and put his "everything on the radio is fine" persona voice, which usually did nothing to hide the sour faces, so Carlos always dropped the subject.
"Well," Carlos said, once he could speak again as Cecil had moved onto his hands. "I bet you'll sleep well tonight. I know I will." He chuckled, exhausted.
"I know I will too." Cecil finished tending to what he could - he had left the leg undone, as he didn't really know a lot about medicine and was just putting Band-Aids on things when needed. "Do you want to shower before bed?" Cecil looked like this might not be the easiest idea for them to accomplish, but he would try as long as Carlos wanted it.
"No, no. We're both too tired to try that right now." Carlos struggled up from the chair, and Cecil caught him before he fell. "Let's just get to bed. Besides, you have work in a few hours." He nodded, like this was important. "I don't want to keep you more awake than you need to be."
"Don't worry about me." Cecil helped him struggle to the stairs, heading up to their tiny bedroom at the top. Technically, it had been an attic area, but since Carlos needed the main bedroom for science, they decided to make it into their bedroom. It was sparse, but comfortable, and quaint. "I think I might call in sick today. Night Vale will understand." Cecil helped Carlos get his lab-coat off, and helped him change gently into his science pajamas, avoiding his leg, which, with pants off, looked a lot worse than he expected. "You just relax, and we can sleep."
"Alright, Cecil." Carlos looked so tired, laying down in their tiny bed, and so inviting, Cecil didn't hesitate crawling into bed with him, wrapping his arms around the skinny waist, pressing his forehead against Carlos's shoulder blades. Finally, finally, he could sleep. He could block out the third eye that plagued him during the night, watched the city sleep while keeping him awake, and he could finally let his mind rest. "Goodnight, Cecil." Carlos said, softly.
"Goodnight, Carlos. Goodnight."
~o~o~
"...Now, listeners, I feel like I need to apologize for my absence during yesterday's broadcast. I needed to take off work for... personal reasons, which, well... To say the least, it is extremely good news. My boyfriend, Carlos the Scientist... is back! He just, well, sort of appeared late the other night, and it was my honor bound duty to tend to him for a little while, you understand. However, I can say with a glad and grateful heart that Night Vale is complete again, and everyone from that incident with the doors is home, and it is wonderful, listeners. Absolutely wonderful."
