GUESS WHO BOUGHT TICKETS TO THE WELCOME TO NIGHT VALE LIVE SHOW IN DETROIT ON MARCH 24th?! THIS GIRL! -excited fangirl shrieking continues for several minutes- I'm psyched! My friend Tristan and I are going, and I can't wait! I. Am. Actually. Going. To. See. Night Vale. Live. Oh. My. God.

Ahem...sorry about that...but seriously, so excited!

So here's the newest update! I want to make a few things a little bit more clear before we begin, solely for the purpose of disclaiming purposes:
1.) I am NOT a licensed doctor, nurse, or surgeon. I have very little knowledge of the medical world in the grand scheme of things, so. Please keep that in mind.
2.) I am aware that Carlos's...decision...may not have been the greatest, but I assure you! It will be addressed in the following chapter!
3.) This chapter was even harder to write than the last one! My reasons include trying to get the dialogue to flow well with the urgency and emotions, as well as the situation itself. So if it seems a little off, please excuse it! This chapter has been betaed by me several times over, and unlike several of the chapters (on FFN; AO3 makes it SO MUCH EASIER to edit your chapters if you find a mess up later on!) this one is the final draft.
4.) Slight trigger warnings apply here, including blood.

Okay! Sorry about that. :) I just wanted to let you know!

CHAPTER SONG: "Science & Faith" by the Script (Put this on repeat whilst reading this chapter! I promise it will all make sense!)

Disclaimer: WTNV is a production of Commonplace Books. It is written by Joseph Fink and produced by Jeffrey Cranor. Cecil owns himself. I own nothing.

It Came Upon a Voidless Clear

A Welcome to Night Vale fanfiction

By doodlegirll

...oOo...

Chapter Nine: Here We Come a Rescuing

"Oh God," Carlos muttered. "Oh God, oh God, oh God…"

He pressed 'redial' on his phone. It rang seven times before it switched to voicemail.

"Dios mio, no!" Carlos clenched his phone tightly in his hand, and had to stop himself from throwing it to the ground. "Cecil!"

"Carlos, what's wrong?!" Maria was at her son's side in a second, quickly switching the burners on the stove off. "Carlito, que pasa?!"

Carlos could feel the earth around him beginning to spin, and he would have fallen had Maria not reached out and taken him by the forearms. His entire body was trembling.

"What's going on?!" Andre demanded as he rushed into the kitchen, José close behind him. Ashley stood back, her hands on Gracie's shoulders as the little girl and her twin cousins tried to follow, her green eyes wide with alarm.

"It's Cecil," Carlos said as he ran his hands through his hair, trying to stave off the hysteria that was rapidly rising, without much avail. "I think he's hurt. There was the sound of metal crunching, and he sounded scared, and the line went dead…"

"Carlito, calm down." Maria soothed gently. "What's going on?"

"He left." Carlos explained. He buried his face in his hands momentarily, speaking through his fingers. "He just took the keys, and left…he doesn't have a clue how to drive in weather like this! How could he be so foolish?!"

Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, his head whirled in José's direction. Something inside of him snapped.

"He heard what you said!" He spat at his father. "About him being a bad influence! He heard every word, Dad, and he left! He left and I think he's hurt, or worse, and it's your fault!"

Maria's eyes widened, and she turned to look at her husband, who swallowed, his face stoic but guilty.

"What did you do?!" She demanded. "What did you say?!"

"I said some things." José admitted. "Some things that perhaps…perhaps I should not have said."

"He called him a bad influence." Carlos said as he broke away from his mother's touch, and walked towards the door, his phone still clutched tightly in his hand. "And Cecil heard him and thought it was his fault, and he left." He grabbed his coat from the hook and shoved his feet into his boots, not bothering to untie them, before looping his scarf around his neck. He grabbed the handle of the door.

"I'm going after him."

"Wait, Carlos, no!" José reached out and grabbed his son's arm. "It's horrible out there!"

Carlos yanked his arm from his father's grasp violently, his glare harsh enough to split stone. "Cecil is probably hurt and he needs me!" He spat. He twisted the handle in his hand. "I'm not just going to leave him!"

"So you're just going to walk there?!" José demanded. "Don't be stupid, Carlos!"

Carlos clenched his teeth. "I'm going after him."

"Then let me take you!" José insisted.

"Haven't you done enough?!" Carlos demanded. "I'd rather walk."

"Carlos, wait." Andre stepped forward, grabbing his own coat and slipping it over his shoulders. "Don't go out there by yourself. You'll never get to him in time on foot in this weather. We'll take my car."

Carlos looked at his brother gratefully, and nodded his approval. Carlos glared again at José, who stepped out of the way dejectedly.

"Here." Carlos felt his mother press something gently into his palm. He looked down to reveal a tiny satin purse, which he knew contained her rosary. "You may need this."

Carlos closed his fingers over the purse. "Gracias, Mamá." He whispered.

"Let us know when you find him." Ashley said from her place in the kitchen. Gracie had turned her face into Ashley's legs, hugging her tightly, and she whimpered slightly.

"We will." Andre promised. "We'll be careful."

With that, he and Carlos were out the door, and Carlos jumped off the porch in a single bound, and rushed to Andre's minivan. Andre swiftly slid behind the steering wheel while Carlos clambered into the passenger side, barely managing to close the door without slamming his leg in it. His heart pounded in his head, like a drum, the beat carrying the steady tune of Ce-cil, Ce-cil, Ce-cil.

Andre peeled out of the driveway as fast as he possibly could considering the slightly slippery conditions the snow – which now fell in thick, wet flakes – had created.

"At least the snow hasn't covered the tire tracks," Andre said as he pulled out onto the main road, and quickly followed the set of tracks in the snow before them. "And that it's still daylight out."

Carlos nodded, mutely, as he chewed on his bottom lip anxiously.

"Do you know where he was going?" Andre asked.

"He said he remembered how to get downtown," Carlos explained. "So we should try that way first."

"You said he heard what Dad said?" Andre turned his head momentarily to look at his brother, who nodded gravely.

"Yeah." Carlos said. "I don't know if he heard it all, but…he heard enough."

Andre shook his head. "Dios mio…" He whispered, mostly to himself. "I hope we find him."

A thousand scenarios played across the mental screen of Carlos's brain at once, none of which were good. He swallowed the bile at the back of his throat thickly, letting the acidic burning root him in reality, remind him that he wasn't dreaming, no matter how badly he wanted all of this to be a horrible nightmare. Anxiety twisted painfully in his gut like a wrung rag, and could feel himself shaking as his eyes frantically scanned the road before them.

And then he saw it.

There, about 200 feet in front of them, was the rental car.

Or, rather, what was left of the rental car.

It was wrapped around a tree on the passenger side, crunched and tangled beyond recognition. The emergency lights were flashing in a mesmerizing staccato, like beacons to an oncoming ship. The thick snow made it almost impossible to see anything else, but Carlos had seen enough.

"Cecil!" Carlos cried, fumbling with the door handle as Andre fishtailed as he slowed the car. Without even waiting for it to come to a complete stop, Carlos threw open the door and stumbled outside, running as fast as he could against the wind and snow that slapped his face and fogged his glasses.

Andre yelling his name vaguely registered in his mind as he reached the mangled remains of the car and threw himself at the driver's side door. The front windshield had partially shattered, the hood of the car thrust upwards in what resembled a taunting leer, and the passenger side door was bent inwards into the car itself. Glass littered the dashboard and seats, and snow had begun to accumulate inside as well.

Carlos yanked open the door so hard he felt his shoulder pop. Trembling hands reached for the limp figure slumped forward against the pillow of the deployed airbag.

"Cecil!" Carlos said urgently as he grasped his boyfriend's shoulders, very carefully hauling him back away from the steering wheel and airbag, and turning his face towards him. Cecil's glasses lay in his lap, broken in half, presumably from the impact of the airbag, as well as his cell phone, and Carlos swiftly deposited them into his coat pocket. "Cecil, can you hear me?"

Blood trickled from Cecil's nose, and from a deep cut above his left eyebrow, and alongside his left temple. Bruises had already begun to form on his cheek and just below his hairline, and several smaller scratches stitched across his forehead and chin. Carlos yanked at his scarf, pulling it from around his neck and pressing it against the deeper wounds to stanch the blood flow. Cecil moaned as he did so, his purple eyes fluttering open.

"Carlos?" His voice was garbled and weak, thick with pain, but his tone still held the same reverence he reserved for Carlos's name, and his hand came up to grasp at Carlos's sleeve. Two of his fingers refused to wrap around his wrist, and while Carlos was not a doctor of medicine, he knew they were probably broken. "Carlos…"

"I'm here, I've got you." Carlos gently ran his thumb across Cecil's cheekbone, trying to keep his voice as calm and even as possible so as to not scare Cecil, despite the terror that gripped his entire body like a vice. "I'm here."

Andre came running up behind him, his phone in his hand.

"My phone died in the middle of trying to call an ambulance!" He said as he huffed for air. His eyes flicked to Cecil. "Dios mio..."

"We have to get him to the hospital." Carlos said as he momentarily let go of Cecil and leant across him to unbuckle the seatbelt that pinned him to the seat. "They'd never get here in time anyway. Not in this snow."

"Carlos," Cecil murmured again, and Carlos felt his heart restrict in his chest as his boyfriend's face twisted in pain. "Carlos, it hurts."

"I know, baby. I'm going to get you out of here."

He was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that the car was still running. Carlos awkwardly bent himself away from his injured and bleeding boyfriend to fumble for the keys, finally locating them and switching the car off.

"He okay?" Andre asked against the howling wind as Carlos brushed away the shards of glass that covered Cecil like glitter, wincing as a piece lodged itself into his finger.

"I don't know." Carlos answered as he very gently slipped his arms beneath Cecil's legs and back. "I think he hit his head. We have to get him to the hospital now. They'll be able to help him there."

Andre nodded. "Do you need help?"

Carlos didn't answer, instead turning his attention to Cecil.

"Cecil, I'm going to lift you out of here, okay?" He said. "It might hurt."

Cecil nodded weakly, his violet eyes glassy, and his teeth chattered. Carlos knew he was probably going to into shock, and that fueled his need to get Cecil out of there even further. He cursed himself for his lack of medical training beyond basic lab safety and first aid.

Angling himself in the snow, Carlos very, very carefully lifted Cecil from the driver's seat, and Cecil groaned as he did so, his handsome face twisted grotesquely in pain. Carlos hefted him into his arms, bridal style, thankful that Cecil didn't weigh much. Cecil's head lolled onto his shoulder, and he tucked his face into the crook of Carlos's neck, like a kitten against the belly of its mother. Carlos turned his head to plant a kiss onto Cecil's blond hair as he began the trek through the snow towards Andre's car, where it waited patiently, the snow stinging his eyes, making it harder and harder to see. Carlos stumbled slightly as his footing slipped in the wet snow, and Cecil gasped, whether from pain, surprise, or a combination of both, Carlos didn't know.

"I've got you, Cec." He whispered as he straightened himself and continued on. "You're going to be okay."

"Carlos, I'm s-so sorry…" Cecil whispered before falling into a fit of coughing.

"Shh, don't talk." Carlos commanded. "Save your strength."

"I'm cold." Cecil shivered, and Carlos held him closer. "Even my t-teeth are cold."

"I know, we're almost to the car." Carlos said. "Just a little farther, okay?"

Finally, blessedly, he reached the car. Andre was waiting, and he opened the door to the backseat swiftly. Carlos, as quickly as possible, ducked inside, making sure to shield Cecil's head with his own as he did so.

Cecil, still shivering, moaned again as Carlos shifted so that Cecil was gently cradled against his chest. He wrapped his arms securely around Cecil's slim body, rubbing circles into his back through the torn fabric of his parka, trying to warm him as best he could. Andre, sliding back into the driver's seat, reached over and turned up the heat full-blast, and instantly warm air began to fill the small space.

"You okay back there?" He asked.

Carlos nodded. "As we're going to be." He said. "Go!"

Andre shifted the minivan into drive, and with a slight spin of the tires, pulled forward, rushing as fast as he could in the direction of town.

Carlos very gently raised Cecil's head and pulled away the scarf, now stained with blood, to inspect the wounds; the bleeding had slowed to a trickle on the cut on his temple as harsh, rough scabs began to form, but the one above his eyebrow was still bleeding enough to be concerning. He brushed back Cecil's white-blond hair, now stained orange from the blood, from his forehead soothingly before pressing the scarf back against the gash.

"I'm s-sorry, C-Carlos." Cecil said through chattering teeth.

"Shhh, no, Cecil, I'm sorry." Carlos said quietly. "This is my fault. I never should have…" He shook his head, and tears suddenly sprang to his eyes. He leant his cheek against Cecil's hair. "Just hold on, Cecil, it's going to be okay."

"Carlos?" Cecil whimpered. "I'm sleepy."

"I know." Carlos soothed, holding Cecil closer. "I know, baby, but you have to stay awake for me. Don't go to sleep."

"My head hurts…" Cecil said, his voice suddenly slurring and growing weaker. "I-It hurts, and I'm sleepy…"

"Shhh, querido, don't talk. We're almost at the hospital, okay?" Panic gripped at Carlos once more, and he fought back the urge lose his breakfast in the floorboard. Was being sleepy after hitting your head indication of a concussion, or not? "Just stay awake for me."

"But…you're so warm…" Cecil murmured against Carlos's neck.

"No, no, no, Cec, you have to stay awake!" Carlos said, shaking Cecil. Cecil gasped and winced as he opened his eyes just a bit. "Come on, talk to me. Pretend I'm one of your listeners. Tell me what I need to know."

Cecil groaned in what appeared to be protest, and Carlos gently jostled him again.

"Please, Cecil," he begged quietly. "Talk to me."

"Today, listeners," Cecil slurred, "I remembered my brother's name…and his face…"

Carlos swallowed. Cecil had never disclosed much about his brother, only that, since finding the cassette tapes that revealed so much in so little content, he had remembered his brother's name, but he had never told Carlos, and Carlos had never asked.

"What did he look like?" Carlos asked as Cecil began to nod off again. "Tell me about him. What do you remember?"

"H-He had hair…like mine, but…darker…" Cecil said, frowning, squinting. "He was old…er than m-me…"

"What was his name?" Carlos pressed. Anything to get Cecil to stay awake. "Was he as stubborn as you sometimes?"

"Mmmmm." Cecil agreed. "S-Some…times…"

He nodded off again, this time going completely slack in Carlos's arms, and Carlos shook him again.

"Cecil, no, stay awake for me, querido." He pleaded. "We're almost to the hospital."

Cecil didn't answer. He didn't open his eyes, didn't even utter a single sound in reply. Carlos brought his hand to his face, patting at his cheek lightly.

"No, no, no, Cecil, don't do this!" He begged. "Wake up!"

Cecil didn't respond.

Blind terror seized hold of Carlos's entire being, and he groped at the rapidly fraying strings of control. Every coherent thought he'd ever had, every single moment of calm he had ever experienced, flew out the window all at once, and Carlos could feel himself slipping further and further into a deep chasm of what could only be described as pure and utter despair.

"Cecil?!" He shook his boyfriend again. "Cecil, no!"

He pressed two fingers to Cecil's neck, but his hands were shaking so badly he was unable to locate a pulse. This only fueled the fire of panic in his gut more, and Carlos suddenly found himself unable to breathe as it consumed him whole, like he was nothing more than the meal of some ferocious beast.

He's going to die. Dios mio, he's going to die! He hit his head, and he's going to die!

"Andre!" He cried to his brother in the front seat of the car. "He's unconscious!"

Andre dared a glance in the rearview mirror at his brother and Cecil, his brown eyes wide.

"I'm going as fast as I can!" He promised. "The roads are slick! We're almost there!"

Carlos curled himself around the listless body of his boyfriend, choking back the panicked sobs that were accumulating at the back of his throat as he pressed Cecil's head close to his chest. Shaking fingers clutched at the torn and bloody fabric of the lime green parka, pulling him so close, he was certain if he tried hard enough, he'd be able to meld Cecil's body with his own.

"Hold on, Cecil," he whispered against Cecil's forehead. "Please, please hold on."

Please don't die. I need you.

After what seemed like an eternity, Andre finally peeled into the circle drive of the emergency room, sliding to a rough stop in front of the doors. Immediately he was out of the driver's seat, not bothering to even kill the engine, and rushed to the door of the backseat, and opened it. Carlos, still holding Cecil tightly against his chest, wasted no time clambering out onto the pavement.

"Go park the car!" Carlos said, looking at his brother as he jostled Cecil in his arms. "I'll get him into triage, at least."

Andre nodded. "I'll be there as soon as I can!" He said, and quickly hopped back in the car.

Carlos turned and rushed through the automatic doors of the emergency room, and was pleased to note that there was no one else in the waiting room as he made a beeline for the front desk.

An older gentleman was sitting behind the desk, sipping a cup of coffee. Upon seeing Carlos, with the bloody Cecil in his arms, he nearly spat it all over his monitor in surprise.

"What happened?!" He asked in a thick Brooklyn accent.

"Car accident." Carlos huffed, slightly out of breath. "He hit his head, and he's bleeding. He needs help!"

The man behind the counter immediately hit a button on the wall, and the double doors next to the waiting room opened. He picked up the phone next to his computer.

"We gotta car accident in here!" He said, urgently. "Looks like head trauma." He then hung up and pointed towards the doors. "Through there. We'll get you all set up."

Carlos gave the man a single nod before he hurried towards the doors, where he was met immediately by three nurses and a gurney, where he gingerly laid Cecil's limp body.

"What have we got?" One of the nurses asked as a stethoscope was pressed to Cecil's chest as another set of nimble fingers began to remove his parka. Carlos stood off to the side and watched as they worked, forcing himself to remain calm as an oxygen mask was placed on Cecil's face.

"Car accident." He answered above the cries of status and heart rate. "He hit a tree."

The nurse with the stethoscope on Cecil's chest pulled it away.

"Heart rate slow," she announced, and gently pulled away Carlos's scarf from Cecil's head. "Contusions to the forehead and left temple, possible brain swelling. I need a CT scan to check for trauma, now!" She shined a penlight in Cecil's eyes.

They began to wheel the gurney down the hall, taking Cecil with it. Carlos felt the already high panic levels rise a notch higher as they turned the corner and disappeared, and he stepped forward as though to follow them, but a hand on his arm held him back.

"Sir?" A young nurse with dark skin and eyes in mint green scrubs smiled warmly at him. "I need you to come with me. Are you of any relation to the patient?"

Carlos nodded. "I'm his boyfriend." He answered.

"Are you on his emergency consent form?" She asked.

Carlos shook his head. "I don't know." He answered honestly. "I think so. We've been dating for a while now, but he's never even been sick…"

The nurse smiled kindly at him and squeezed his arm.

"It's okay." She said. "Follow me. We'll ask you the basics."

Carlos nodded and followed her to a room next to the office, where a sign on the door said "triage" in bold, black letters. The nurse instructed Carlos to sit, which he gratefully obliged as he began to realize how badly his legs were shaking.

The nurse sat down in a stool next to a computer monitor while Carlos, overcome by the sudden undeniable urge to vomit, hunched over, his head on his knees, hands behind his head.

"Are you okay?" The nurse asked quietly.

Carlos swallowed and raised his head; as he did so, some of the tears that had been welling in his eyes began to cascade down his face, and he quickly wiped them away.

"Y-Yeah." He stammered. "Fine."

The nurse looked skeptical, but she didn't press the issue further.

"Alright, you said you're his boyfriend?" She asked.

Carlos nodded. "Yes."

"What's his name? First, middle, and last, please."

"Cecil. Cecil Gershwin Palmer." He spelled out Cecil's middle name for her.

"Age and date of birth?"

"Thirty two; February 18th, 1981."

"Any allergies we need to know about?"

"Penicillin." Carlos said. He decided to leave out Cecil's odd allergy to the yellow and purple eggs that John Peters – you know, the farmer? – sold at the farmer's market every Saturday morning, as he was certain, from his experience, that yellow and purple eggs didn't exist anywhere outside of Night Vale.

"Alright, good." The nurse said as she typed in the information Carlos had provided. "Any previous medical problems?"

"He said he had Lyme disease almost two years ago." Carlos said. "But he never showed any symptoms, and the last time he went to the doctor, his blood work came back normal."

"That's unusual." The nurse murmured quietly. "Perhaps it was a misdiagnosis?"

Carlos shook his head and shrugged. "We weren't dating at the time, so honestly, I couldn't tell you."

"That's fine." She said. "Now, does he have any immediate family that we can contact in the event of consent being needed?"

Carlos shook his head. "He doesn't have any family." He said. "I-I'm all he has."

"He doesn't have any parents or siblings we can call?" She asked. "I'm afraid if you aren't on his consent form, we won't be allowed to release any information to you…"

"His mother died when he was fifteen." Carlos said. "And his brother just up and left him around the same time. He's never met his father, and doesn't even know his name. I'm all he has."

The nurse gave him a sympathetic look.

"Do you know who is primary physician is?" She asked.

"Teddy Williams." Carlos answered. "He lives in Arizona; we're here for the holidays visiting my parents."

"Arizona, wow…" The nurse whistled. "I bet this weather is a bit of a wakeup call, eh?"

Carlos chuckled, dryly, mirthlessly. "That's why he got in the accident." He answered quietly. "He has no idea how to drive in snow, and yet he still took the keys and tried!" He shook his head angrily. "And now…"

The nurse reached out and patted his knee.

"It's okay." She said. "We're going to do everything we can for him."

She turned back to the computer.

"Is there any way we can get in touch with Dr. Williams?" She asked. "Do you have his insurance card?"

Carlos shook his head.

"His wallet was on him." He said. "Either in his jeans or his coat."

The nurse nodded, and stood to her feet.

"Give me a moment." She said, and excused herself from the room. Less than a minute later, she reappeared with Cecil's jeans, lime green parka – stained with rust colored splotches now that made Carlos nauseous to look at – and a very familiar red flannel shirt. Carlos realized that Cecil must have grabbed it as he grabbed the keys from the dresser. He doubted it had been an accident.

"Here." The nurse said, handing Carlos the clothing. He rummaged through the pockets of Cecil's jeans, finding nothing, but his parka pockets yielded his retractable spork, his hand held tape recorder, a few peppermints, his iPod and earbuds, and, thankfully, his wallet. Carlos pulled his insurance and medical care cards from their designated pockets and handed them to the nurse, who began entering the information into the computer as Carlos stared at the torn coat in his hands. Had they not been covered in his boyfriend's blood, he would have been tempted to bury his face in the lining, hoping to find Cecil's scent lingering there, but the pungent smell of rust and copper made him want to gag.

The nurse must have sensed this, because she paused what she was doing.

"If you want, we can get rid of that." She said, softly. "It's technically a biohazard, with that blood on it."

Carlos hesitated a moment before nodding.

"Please." He said. "Can I wash my hands, too? They're..." He held up a hand, which was stained red.

"Sure." The nurse smiled as she slipped on a latex glove and took the parka from Carlos, depositing it in a red biohazard bag and shoving it underneath her stool as she resumed typing, and pointed to the small sink in the corner. "You can wash your hands there. There's soap and disinfectant in the dispensery by the light switch."

Carlos gratefully stood and carefully folded the remaining jeans and flannel, placing them on the back of the chair before he made his way to the sink. He pumped a gratitous amount of soap into his palm, and turned on the hot water. He washed his hands clean until they were raw and sore, but thankfully clear of the reminder of his boyfriend's current state. He quietly sat back down in the chair.

After a few moments of silence, the nurse rose once more.

"I'm going to have to call Dr. Williams," she said. "He's Mr. Palmer's primary physician, and he'll have access to his records, including his emergency forms. If you're on it, we can release information to you."

Carlos nodded. "Thank you." He said.

"You can go out into the waiting room until we know anything else."

Carlos nodded, and without another word, stood, and allowed the young nurse to show him out the door and back into the hallway, and from there back into the waiting room, where he found Andre pacing restlessly next to a power outlet in the wall, where his phone was plugged in to charge.

"Carlos!" Andre rushed to his brother's side, his face drawn with worry. "Is he alright?! What's going on?!"

"I don't know." Carlos answered. "They won't release any information to me until they find out if I'm on Cecil's emergency contacts or not. They're calling Cecil's doctor now."

Andre ran a hand over his forehead. "What if you aren't on his contacts?" He asked.

"I don't know." Carlos said, sighing.

Andre placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Let's sit down." He said quietly. "All we can do now is wait."

Carlos nodded, and allowed his brother to lead him to the chairs along the large windows of the waiting room. He gratefully into one of the hard seats, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes, trying once more to keep the thoughts of uncertainty at bay.

"I'm going to call Ashley and let her and the others know we made it here safely." Andre said. "You gonna be okay here by yourself for a few minutes?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Carlos answered. "Go ahead."

Andre nodded once, turning away from his brother and walking outside. Carlos sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his elbows on his knees.

A sudden tinny tune broke through the silence of the waiting room, accompanied by a persistent buzzing from his pocket. Frowning, he reached in and pulled out Cecil's cell phone, the lockscreen of which declared that it was Dana calling.

Carlos swallowed thickly, debating whether or not he should answer the call. He had no information whatsoever about Cecil's current state, and he wasn't sure that he'd even be able to access any information any time soon. Not only that, but how in the world was he going to explain the situation in the first place?

Still, Carlos knew he owed Dana, as Cecil's friend and intern, at least some sort of explanation. And if Cecil didn't make it out of this…well, someone needed to know that wasn't the deranged Teddy Williams.

He swallowed again, and slid the bar to answer the phone, pressing it to his ear.

Before he had time to utter so much as a word, Dana's chiming voice instantly filled his ears.

"Cecil! Great news! Intern Franz has returned from the pocket dimension in the men's restroom! He now has six left pinky toes, but I think he'll be able to learn to live with them, and I told him you—"

"Dana," Carlos cut her off. "It's Carlos."

"Oh." Dana stopped short. "Carlos, hi! Sorry about that! I get a little carried away sometimes. Is Cecil there? It's kind of important."

"No, Cecil isn't here." Carlos answered.

"Well, could you find him for me?" Dana pressed. "Please? Station Management asked me to make sure he knows that he still has to work on New Year's Eve and give the new year's report on the first of the year after he goes in for—"

"No, Dana, I can't get him for you." Carlos said tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "There's…Cecil's been in an accident."

"Accident?" Dana's voice suddenly grew grave. "What do you mean, accident?"

"Cecil was in a car accident, Dana. He's in the emergency room now."

Dana gasped, and swore in a language Carlos didn't understand. "What happened?!"

"He hit a tree." Carlos answered. "It was snowing, and I guess he lost control of the car…he was on the phone with me, and he was crying, and…" Carlos trailed off, the knot at the back of his throat silencing him.

Dana was quiet for a second. "Why was he crying?" She asked in a small voice.

"It's all my fault, Dana." Carlos said. "I never should have brought him here! I brought him into a world that's not strange and normal, and I should have known better! And now he's hurt, and it's my fault."

He pressed the heel of his free hand to his forehead in an effort to fight away the tears that threatened to fall again.

He heard Dana take a deep breath on the other line.

"Carlos, listen to me." She said, her wispy voice serious. "If there's one thing growing up in Night Vale and working at NVCR teaches you, it's how to survive. Cecil survived nine years as an intern here at the station before he became the Voice. Nine years, Carlos. That didn't happen by accident. Cecil's a lot of things, but if there's one thing he really is, it's a fighter. He'll pull through this."

Carlos allowed her words to sink in before he shakily said, "Okay."

"Good. Now. I need to go let Station Management know what's going on, okay? They probably aren't going to like this very much, and I swear to the Glow Cloud, if you don't call me and let me know what's going on as soon as you know something, Carlos the Scientist, I will personally find a way to come through the phone and slap you with a wet Hachenberg fish, do you understand me?"

Carlos couldn't help but smile slightly, despite not having a clue in the world what a Hachenberg fish even was, at Dana's protectiveness. Cecil certainly was loved by all.

"I will, Dana, I promise." He said. "I'll keep you updated."

"Thank you." Dana's voice began gentle again. "And Carlos? He'll pull through this. If not for anyone else, he'll fight for you."

Carlos felt his heart constrict painfully again.

"Thanks, Dana." He said. "That means a lot."

"Look, I gotta go, okay? Stay strong, Carlos. He'll be okay." Someone spoke in the background. "Bye, Carlos."

"Bye, Dana."

Just as he hung up the phone, Andre walked back into the room, brushing snowflakes from his coat.

"Ashley said they're waiting for the snow to let up a little before they try and come to the hospital." He explained. "She said Dad feels pretty bad."

Carlos felt his face harden at the mention of José. He wanted badly to spit Good! He should!, but he bit his tongue, refusing to allow himself to take his anger out on his brother. This was just as much his fault as it was José's.

"Anything new?" Andre asked.

Carlos shook his head. "I just got off the phone with Dana, Cecil's intern at the radio station. I told her what's going on."

Andre nodded. "Probably a good idea." He agreed. "So someone knows, at least."

The brothers didn't say anything else as Andre dropped himself into the seat next to Carlos, depositing his coat on the back of the chair. Carlos realized he, too, was still in his coat, and he peeled it off, grateful to note that there was no blood on it, despite the blood that had covered his boyfriend. He wasn't sure he would be able to handle that again.

After about ten minutes, the silence of the waiting room was beginning to grow oppressive. Usually Carlos enjoyed a bit of peace and quiet every once in a while to help him gather his thoughts and unwind, but now, with his emotions and their corresponding thoughts running rampant through his consciousness, he found the stillness suffocating. He dug into his pocket and produced Cecil's purple iPod. He unwound the earbuds from around it and placed them in his ears, pressing play on the clickwheel without looking at what it was Cecil had last been listening to. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, allowing the lyrics to wash over him like warm water, blessedly washing away the stifling silence.

You won't find faith or hope down a telescope

You won't find heart or soul in the stars,

You can break everything down to chemicals

But you can't explain a love like ours

It's the way we feel,

Yeah, this is real…

Intrigued, Carlos looked down at the iPod's screen, and found that the song he was currently listening to was the Script's "Science & Faith." He clicked the back button so he could listen to the song in its entirety.

No sooner had the first verse finished did Carlos stand up, almost abruptly. He yanked the earbuds out of his ears and sat the iPod, along with Cecil's retractable spork and cell phone, down on the chair where he had been sitting, along with Cecil's jeans and the flannel.

"I'll be back." He said to Andre, who raised an inquisitive brow. "There's something…there's something I need to do."

Andre nodded. "Okay." He said. "I'll let you know if I find out anything."

"Thanks." Carlos said. He turned on his heel and marched to the doors at the opposite end of the waiting room and walked into the hall, finding a directory map next to the vending machines filled with pop and peanut butter crackers.

Locating his destination, Carlos set out, his face set, his shoulders squared, and a renewed sense of urgent purpose settling in his stomach.

Translations:
-que pasa: "what's wrong?"
-Dios mio: "My god" or "Oh my god"