Chapter Text
So Kevin and Charles took over the Palmers' lives.
It was easy, almost too easy. Kevin already looked enough like Cecil to make it convincing. True, there were a few differences; Cecil had purple eyes while Kevin had black voids, Cecil's hair was shorter, Kevin had long gashes around his wide smile. But all in all it was nothing a little prop work couldn't fix. Anyone, no one would see him up close. No one that didn't have to. After all, as Cecil's voice filtered out across town, into the scrublands and the sandwastes, everyone in Night Vale listened, and they needed to think the words were really his. That the words Kevin put in front of him to read were Cecil's own words. That he had decided to believe in a Smiling God, and that his normal presence around town was maintained.
While Charles finished setting up at the radio station, Kevin drove to Cecil's house with the windows tinted and changed into those hideous swaths of cloth Cecil called clothes. Not at all what Kevin himself liked. He sifted through gowns in green taffeta and giraffe-print silk, fishnets with fake fish printed onto them, pants where the legs were different lengths and had hideous chunky belts sewn through the loops. Kevin smoothed his fingertips over the bloodless clothes, munching on some raw steak he'd found in the fridge. His fingers drifted over the clothes, until they found crinkled plastic, unexpected after all the fabric. Kevin pulled the item out from the back of the closet and held it to the light. It was a heavy plastic bag, the kind purchased from dry-cleaners, with a zipper and a label that read, "12/15/16" with a heart. Inside was a garish tuxedo, steam pressed and in perfect condition save for a small champagne stain on the left cuff.
"Huh," said Kevin aloud. He tossed the bag onto the floor of the closet and closed the door. Eventually he settled on a purple button down from Cecil's dresser and the least ridiculous pants he could find. The top of the dresser had photographs on it, and a small mirror covered by a cloth. Kevin turned the photos upside down and took the cloth off the mirror. As he drifted through the room, tracing his fingertips over the various objects, he hummed to himself. Cecil and Carlos's bed was neatly made with military corners. The rug was one and three quarters inches thick. The chargers were still plugged into the outlets by each nightstand. The gaming console on Carlos's desk turned on when he pushed the button. He picked up the controller and clicked the game on the home screen under "Recently played." After a few seconds of darkness, a loading menu popped up with a flurry of symbols and music. Skyrim. Kevin frowned and threw the controller onto the desk. He hated that game, just like he hated all video games with false gods. Charles had explained the theory of video games to him, back in sweet Desert Bluffs Too on their second date.
"Video games, books, and movies - these things all preach false gods to take our children away from the light of the Smiling God," Charles had hissed back then. "Skyrim. Star Wars. The Bible. These fictions are designed for that purpose. I hate them."
"I hate them, too," Kevin had whispered back. And he had marveled to be with someone who so closely shared his feelings.
He turned off the console and drifted back into the hallway. From somewhere in the house, a dog barked, and Kevin rolled his eyes. Of course those two would have a dog. Of course there would be complications to the plan he had worked so, so hard to create. Unforeseen circumstances. Unfortunate. But not insurmountable. Kevin took out his phone and called Charles.
"Sweetie?" he cooed. "Come over soon, okay? And stop to get groceries, please. I can't eat any of this. The intern? What about her? Well, get it under control." He threw himself onto the couch and giggled. "Okay! Oh, Charles, sure! That sounds divine. Okay, I love you too." He picked up a book from the coffee table and leafed through it. When he turned the pages, his fingertips left smears of blood.
The plan, aside from some minor setbacks, had gone just as well as Kevin could expect. There was just one problem.
Esteban.
Esteban arrived on the school bus and walked to the front door. Kevin opened it and waved to the bus driver from a safe enough distance, then ushered Esteban inside. The child was already babbling as he shrugged off his backpack, "I thought you were going to pick me up for my audition -" and then he looked up. "Who are you?"
"Come to the kitchen. I'll explain everything. Do you want a snack?"
Esteban followed Kevin to the kitchen, but didn't sit when he pulled out a chair for him. "Where's my dad?"
"You know Donavan, don't you?" Esteban nodded slowly. "So you understand that he's your double? I'm your dad's double. He has to stay at the radio station for a little while, so I'll be here to look after you. Donnie will be by in a little bit." Kevin smiled. "My name is Kevin. We'll be very good friends."
"Where's my other dad?"
"You're focusing too much on the details, Esteban." Kevin turned to the fridge. "Let me make you a snack. Do you have earthworms? No? I'll make something else." He hummed to himself, but when he glanced at Esteban with a huge smile, Esteban wasn't smiling back.
"You're not my dad."
"I'm Kevin."
"You are NOT my dad!" Esteban shrieked unprovoked as Kevin set the snack plate down in front of him.
"I already told you, your dad is at the radio station. You get to hang out with me and Donnie instead. Isn't that fun?"
"No! It is NOT fun!" Esteban picked up the snack plate and threw it at the wall, causing gummy bears and apple slices to rain down onto the tiled floors. "I want my real dads!"
Kevin took a few deep breaths. "Don't I look exactly like Cecil, anyway?" He smiled. "We're doubles! Just like you and Donovan are doubles. It's the wonderful way that Desert Bluffs Too mirrors Night Vale. You can pretend I'm him for a few days." But Esteban screamed even louder and kicked at the air.
"No, you do NOT! My daddy is pretty and you are UGLY! Daddy smells like coffee and flowers and YOU smell like GARBAGE!"
"But -"
"Garbage! Garbage! Garbage!" And Esteban jumped down from his chair and began to pound his fists on the floor, kicking and screaming. Kevin tried to soothe him, murmuring things like "Shhh, shhh" and "it's okay" and "please, my eardrums are bleeding." But everything he said just made Esteban howl louder.
It was at this precise moment that the front door opened, admitting Charles and Donavan. Charles frowned and gave Kevin a "what is going on?" look. Kevin just smiled back at him. He usually smiled when he didn't know what else to do.
But Donavan, sweet and smart Donavan, knew exactly what to do. He ran to Esteban and sprawled out on the floor next to him. "Your floor is comfy!" he exclaimed. "Hi, Esteban!" Esteban hiccuped and stopped crying.
"Hi, Donnie."
"Are you okay?"
"No."
"Oh." Donavan sat up. "Why not?"
"I don't like this, Donnie," Esteban whimpered. "I want my dads. Why aren't they here?"
"I dunno. I don't ask questions. Do you wanna play a game?"
"Yeah, but I'm sad." Esteban wiped his nose on his sleeve. Ew, thought Kevin. He had no idea Cecil and Carlos's kid would be so... misbehaved. Charles silently began to pick up the remnants of the snack plate. He threw them in the trash, walked over, and put an arm around Kevin's shoulder. Instantly, Kevin felt the tension leave him, and his limbs relaxed. Charles kissed the side of his head. It felt like sunshine.
Across the room, Donavan leaned towards Esteban conspiratorially. "What do you need to not be sad anymore? I don't really know what my dads are planning, but if we ask really nicely, they'll will probably get whatever you want."
Esteban thought about it. "Pizza?" he whispered back.
"Yeah, pizza sounds good. We should make them buy us ice cream, too."
"Chocolate chip."
"Definitely." Donavan held up his fist. Esteban blinked away the last few tears in his brown eyes and bumped his own fist against Donavan's.
"And then I can have my dads back later, right? When they're done at the radio station? Cause I like playing with you, but I really really just want my dad back."
"I'll see what I can do. It shouldn't be a problem." The older boy helped him to his feet and turned to Kevin and Charles. "We want pizza and ice cream," he said. "It will make Esteban happy."
"Pizza and ice cream." Kevin took another deep breath and twisted his face back into a huge smile. "Okay! Whatever will make you happy! The Smiling God always wants us to be happy."
"You still smell like garbage," said Esteban, and he and Donnie ran off to play.