Knock. Knock.

Cecil turned his head towards his front door as he heard the quiet sound. He made to get up off of his couch, but stopped and listened for the sounds again. When he heard nothing, he went back to reading the newspaper.

Knock, knock, knock!

The sound came much louder and faster this time, as if it were urgent. Cecil quickly folded his paper and placed it on the coffee table before standing and swiftly making his way to the door. He tried to look out the peephole, but he could see no one.

That's strange, he thought. I'm sure that I heard it this time. Slowly, Cecil unlocked the door and opened it a crack, just enough to be able to see out of it.

There was indeed someone there. Specifically, a man. He had dark and delicate skin, black hair with a dignified, if premature, touch of gray at his temples, and a strong, square jaw with teeth like a military cemetery. These thoughts came to the front of Cecil's mind at astounding speed, so much so that he was momentarily confused by how he knew them in the same way that he knew the back of his hand.

The stranger, he noticed, was wearing a lab coat that, presumably, used to be white, but was now covered in layers of dirt, sand, and sweat. His hair was also in this condition, disheveled and dirty. He now stood—well, leaned heavily—against Cecil's doorframe, panting loudly.

As soon as Cecil opened the door fully, the stranger pushed himself off of the side of the door and practically fell onto him, all while reaching his hands to Cecil's shoulders, and gasping, "Cecil!" right before collapsing against the man in question.

Cecil was momentarily stunned, but he caught the man who seemed to know his name, and probably had known exactly where he lived, and dragged him inside his apartment.

Carefully, Cecil laid the man down onto his couch, not caring about the dust and grime that seemed to cover his entire body.

Carlos woke with a groan. For a second, he had no idea where he was, terrified that he was somewhere in the Desert Otherworld that he didn't recognize. But then he remembered how he had found the old oak door, crossed its threshold, and found himself back in Night Vale, standing inside the House That Doesn't Exist. Looking around, he had made his way out the front door quite easily this time, to his astonishment. Carlos had been enthralled, and had begun to make his way to his and Cecil's apartment. He had started at a jog, but very soon found himself weakening, too tired to keep his legs moving forward. He could only imagine how bad he looked after being stranded in the Desert Otherworld for—who knows how long. But he had kept going, albeit slower and slower as he neared the complex.

Plugging in the code to the building's front door, Carlos had stepped inside and made his way down the hall, thankful that their apartment was on the ground floor. He didn't have his key in his lab coat pockets, so he knocked on the door. Once. Twice. The last thing that he remembered was the door opening, his own cry of "Cecil!" and then everything was black.

Now, he awoke on the couch, still in his disgusting lab coat, rubbing at his eyes, trying to dispel the headache that pounded behind them. He looked up and found Cecil sitting in the chair next to the couch.

Carlos smiled wide and sat up, turning his body to face his boyfriend. But, as he looked at Cecil's face, Carlos's smile slowly dropped from his face, and his shout of his boyfriend's name caught in his throat.

Cecil did not look happy to see him, like how Carlos thought that he would. Instead, Cecil looked confused, worried, and even a little curious.

Quietly, Carlos said, "Cecil?" all while fearing the worst.

Cecil cocked his head slightly to the side, and said, "Yes?"

"Cecil, do you know who I am?"

"Well, no. Should I? Have we met before?"

Carlos's last shred of hope was gone. Cecil didn't remember him; he didn't know who Carlos was.

"I'm Carlos. Does that name sound familiar in any way?"

"No, but it's a pleasure to meet you, Carlos."

Carlos looked at Cecil with sad eyes before sighing, and hanging his head so that it was resting in his hands, balancing his elbows on his knees. He slowly ran his hands back through his hair, and leaned back against the couch.

Cecil was still watching him, and Carlos looked back at the man he was in love with; the man that was his entire reason to get out of the Desert Otherworld; the man who didn't know who he was.

He couldn't believe this. Carlos had been waiting for this moment ever since the first time that Carlos saw Cecil after being banished to the Desert Otherworld—when Dana had showed him how to manifest himself into Cecil's radio station, and when she had told him that his cell phone battery would never run down so he and Cecil could talk every single night, and when she mentioned how sometimes time gets messed up. . . and you end up responding to an e-mail before it's even sent. . . .

"That's it!" Carlos said as his eyes opened wide and he jumped up off of the couch. Cecil was visibly startled, and also stood up quickly as he watched Carlos begin to pace around the room, muttering something about time and the desert.

Cecil didn't know what to do, so he just stood there awkwardly until Carlos turned to him and asked him what the date today was. Cecil looked at his phone, told Carlos what he wanted to know, and then got another unexpected hug from Carlos.

"I figured it out, Cecil!" he exclaimed excitedly. Cecil didn't know what to do, but he hugged Carlos back anyways, figuring that the man could use the comfort. But then something unexpected happened.

Carlos pulled back from the hug and kissed Cecil before the latter even knew what was going on. The kiss lasted a few seconds before Carlos realized what he had done, and quickly pulled away, looking right at Cecil who was slightly stiff and had had his eyes open and looking straight at Carlos with his mouth hanging open a touch.

Carlos stammered an apology, saying something about forgetting when Cecil stepped forward and pulled Carlos back into another kiss. Carlos stiffened at first, but then relaxed at the familiar feel of his boyfriend's lips that had eluded him for months.

Cecil broke off the kiss, slowly dropped his head, and stepped back again before looking up at Carlos and saying, "I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that. You just seemed so familiar, and I. . . ."

"It's okay, Cecil," Carlos said as the other man trailed off. "I'm sorry. I just really missed you, but now I have to go back. I have to fix this."

"What?" Cecil exclaimed, confused. "Go back where? Fix what?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't think that I can tell you that," Carlos said apologetically. "But I know that you will find out very soon."

Cecil still looked like a deer caught in headlights, so Carlos leaned in to kiss him once last time. Cecil responded without hesitation, which made Carlos feel very happy, but he became sad again once he pulled away.

"Goodbye Cecil. I'll see you very soon. I promise."

"Goodbye Carlos. I hope that you do."

Carlos smiled, and left the apartment, determined to get back to the right Cecil; his Cecil.

Person A opens their door to find a stranger (Person B) at their doorstep, weak, injured, and pleading for help, before passing out.