READ PLEASE: I get into lots of stuff in this one, so know this: I'm not trying to offend you. I don't particularly think it's that bad, but if you feel it really is, just kindly skip the rest of the chapters and go on your own merry way. Kay? Kay.

Also I get very headcanon-y. Because I need to.


Disc 5:

History

It wasn't soon after Carlos' lab had overtaken his home, after he and Cecil had started living together in a small house nearly in the center of Night Vale (since a condo was completely out of the question), that Carlos finally asked Cecil something that'd been nagging at his mind since before the two began dating.

Cecil was curled comfortably into Carlos' side, with the scientist's arm slung casually over his shoulders. The broadcaster was dozing off; the documentary Carlos had pleaded that they watch didn't interest him in the least.

"How did you know, Cecil?"

"Know what?" The broadcaster looked up, tilting his head.

"That you were, you know..," Carlos shrugged. "That you were gay. I mean, no one else here seems to be."

"I just knew, I guess," Cecil responded, not phased at all by the question. "No one really cares about that stuff."

"Are you kidding?" Carlos asked, shocked. "You were never teased? Never shoved in a locker?"

"Um, no," Cecil was amused by his boyfriend's surprised reaction and the fact that he thought City Council had ever allowed lockers. "Were you?"

"Cecil, I lived in the backwoods of Florida from the time I was five until I was eighteen," Carlos shook his head. "The whole thing along with my science obsession... it's astonishing that I wasn't stoned to death."

The broadcaster shrugged, not understanding. "I don't see why. I mean, I was thirteen, hung around a lot with Earl, engaged in - "

"You didn't!"

"I did. Like, five times, actually?" Cecil had a habit of slipping out of his pro-speak into a more teenage girl, everything ends with a question mark speak. "Anywho, what I'm trying to say is that it's just nature; no one really gave a second thought about it. And I don't see why your Florida friends would, either."

"I wouldn't call them my 'friends'," Carlos chuckled monotonously. "See, there's this thing called the Bible, Cecil."

"Hm..," The broadcaster searched his mind, trying to recall if he knew what Carlos was talking about. "City Council must not allow it."

Carlos stared. "Must not allow 1984, either," he mumbled. "Or maybe they use it as a source of government advice..."

"Don't talk down our City Council," Cecil pouted. His allegiance to those power hungry, communistic freaks sometimes disturbed the hell out of Carlos. Cecil urged Carlos to speak. "I believe you were telling me your story, yes?"

"Well," The scientist settled back into the couch. "You already know that my father and I left Sao Paulo after my mother died, right?" Cecil nodded.

"Okay. So, Dad moved me from Brazil to Florida. I was almost five then. In fact, I turned five on our first official day in our house," Carlos smiled at the memory. It was one of the few good ones he had of his father. "And he was trying to fit in pretty well in town. He got me involved in a bunch of things, like football - "

"I thought you didn't know the first thing about football."

"Soccer. I meant soccer." Carlos mentally called it football, anyway. It wasn't like he was any good at it, so did it really matter that he didn't American-ize the sport's name?

"I sort of fit in, I guess," Carlos continued. He liked being the one to tell the stories for once. "For elementary and most of middle school. I had a few friends. Wasn't popular or anything. Probably because I used to catch lizards and slice them open."

"Oh, my."

"Mmhm. So, everything was fine until this one day in eighth grade, during gym class. We were changing back into our school clothes after volleyball or basketball or something else I sucked at. And there was this one boy - not a friend, really, but an acquaintance - and for a fourteen-year-old-boy, he was pretty damn handsome.

"I guess it could be considered my fault. I mean, I knew I'd been having those type of thoughts, but I tried to ignore them. My dad, he was a church-y man. I didn't have the guts to try and talk to him. And I knew I should've changed somewhere off by myself. But instead I stayed and stared and I..," Carlos hesitated; it was hard for him to talk about this. It caused so much pain for him in high school, even though, as he realized by this point, the actual story was pretty comical. He near silently mumbled the rest. "I, uh, how you say, pitched a tent in my shorts in front of everyone."

"Ohhh," Cecil sighed sadly and squeezed Carlos' hand. "I'm sorry."

"You're not laughing. Hmph. I usually get one or two out of that one."

Cecil gave Carlos one of the most genuine, stoic stare he'd ever recalled seeing. "I would never make a joke of your life."

"Uh, that's, um..," The scientist felt awkward under the affectionate gaze. "Thanks. Thank you. Really."

"I love you. Now go on with your history lesson."

"People were pretty mean after that. Name calling, the locker-shoving, public humiliation. Then, during science class, I just made things worse," Carlos sighed. "I argued with my teacher for a whole forty minutes on why the theory of evolution is correct. I mean, people are certainly entitled to their views, but I wasn't aware of that then, so I stuck to my guns. Somewhere during that fight, I yelled out something along the lines of, 'God doesn't exist. Your need for a feeling of security is what created a higher being. Blah, blah, blah.' Aaaand that's when life got really bad.

Things got back to my dad. He went all cold towards me. People just got meaner and meaner... the worst was during junior year, when a kid broke my nose and bruised my collarbone. I had to drive myself to the hospital. Forty-five minutes away. Seriously bad homophobia. And right-wing conservatism."

"Gosh, Carlos. I'm sorry," Cecil wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's neck.

"What for? You didn't do anything." Carlos thought a bit, a grin slowly crawling onto his face. "In fact, in anything of that shit never happened to me, I'd never be here with you. Wouldn't that suck more than a broken nose?"

"Mm," Cecil agreed, nodding into Carlos' neck. "I would've never noticed that you broke your nose. You're too perfect."

"Obviously, I'm not," The scientist disagreed. He knew it all too well; nothing was completely perfect, even if it seemed so. Carlos was learning quickly, however, that the love the Cecil had for him was more than impressive. The fact that, no matter what he did, the scientist continued to be viewed as beautiful, perfect... that was more than he could ever ask for. A man like Cecil was the gift he'd never expected from life. After being constantly told he was wrong for twenty-six years, Cecil's unconditional affection was more than he felt he deserved.

"You are really too perfect. Perfectly, beautifully, brilliantly imperfect. And I love every bit of it."


Reviews? They're appreciated! Oh, and I know I view Carlos' past pretty differently. Buuuuutttt that's just how I see it so.

I don't think there'll be another update for bit. Maybe four days at the least. I'm gonna be at a choir festival for the next three days, though, so I don't think I'll have much time to work on anything.

Thanks for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing! Love ya'll for it! *hearts*