Archive of Our Own

The dust storm, upon first appearance, didn’t seem too alarming. In fact, it was kind of refreshing. A normal emergency, for once. Something that people in all kinds of deserts had to deal with, unlike miniature krakens living in puddles and snatching children when they jumped in, or a bank teller who inexplicably turned into a velociraptor every third Wednesday.

No, a natural disaster for once. And natural as in “not defying the very laws of nature”. Yes, it was almost calming.

Of course, this was Night Vale.

Carlos was only given a few precious minutes to savor the normality of the situation, hunkering down with the one remaining lab assistant he had, a young women named Geneva, making sure the windows and doors were sealed, and preparing to wait out the storm. Then the reports started rolling in. Shadowy figures emerging from the murky horizon. Fighting in the storm. Increasingly erratic phone calls ending with screeching.

Just another day in Night Vale.

But Carlos had developed nothing if not a strong survival instinct since he got to Night Vale, and he knew he couldn’t do anything through this storm. He would have loved to get some samples of the sand, but Geneva just grabbed his arm and shook her head with a detached but terrified look and he conceded that he’d just have to wait on the science for now.

And then all of the sudden, something happened that had never happened before, even in Night Vale.

The radio started to flicker out.

Carlos’ gaze snapped violently from the window to the radio where it sat on the counter. “Old Women Josie has…kzztch…runestones, and intern Dana…kzztchhh…in twos…kzzkzzch…kill your…kzzzzzchhhhhh…” After that it was only static.

The radio didn’t go out in Night Vale. It just didn’t. It was one of the few unchanging rules of the city. The radio just…didn’t go out.

Carlos stood up from where he’d been crouched next to his assistant and strode over to the radio. Turning the dial did nothing. The static didn’t even change. He gave the radio a short hit with the side of his hand, but once again, the constant hissing didn’t do so much as hiccup. He hit it again, and again, getting progressively harder each time, and growing more frantic as he did. No, this wasn’t right. The radio didn’t stop. Not when Cecil was on.

Whack- this- whack- wasn’t- whack- right. Carlos picked up the radio and slammed it on the counter with all his strength. The radio didn’t break- it was a study thing- and the static continued to drone on.

He stared at the device in his hands, and then looked towards the door.

“No, Carlos.” Geneva spoke at last, from where she was curled on the floor. “Don’t go out there.”

He shook his head, but reached for his goggles. He’d need them, to make it to his car.

“Carlos,” Geneva pleaded, standing shakily. “Don’t go. I can’t explain, but I feel it. There’s something really wrong. Something dangerous. And not just Night Vale dangerous, either.”

Carlos snorted, still not trusting himself to look at her. “You’re a scientist. I thought you of all people wouldn’t put weight on gut feelings over actual evidence. Or lack here thereof.”

“And normally I wouldn’t, but…please, Carlos. Don’t leave. I’m frightened, and I’m frightened for you. Remember what Dr. Collins said?”

Dr. Collins had been a scientist that came up with them, but left after six months in. He’d taken quite a few of the grad students with him, who were pretty terrified at that time. “Look,” he’d said, trying to convince Carlos to come with them, “it’s not safe here. You may think you’ve got it figured out, but it’ll kill you in the end. Even that guy who talks about you on the radio- mark my words, one day, he’ll snap and become just as dangerous as everything else in this town.”

Carlos’ brows narrowed, feeling a flash of anger at the memory. “It’s just the storm, Geneva. It’s making you uneasy.” Though he was feeling pretty uneasy himself, partially due to the increasing time that Cecil had been off the radio. Geneva didn’t answer but Carlos thought he heard a few whimpering noises. He sighed and grabbed one of the switchblades they’d begun keeping taped under the counter. They kept in handy when one of their experiments sometimes…got cranky, and had to be held off until it would be reasoned with. Carlos walked over and pressed the switchblade into Geneva’s hand, folding her fingers over it. “Look. Hold this, if it makes you feel safer, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I see what’s going on with Cecil.”

She just watched him with wide, fearful eyes, and he went to leave. His hand was on the door handle when she spoke. “It’s not worth it.”

The walk to his car had been more difficult than he thought, and the car itself had only gone mostly to the studio before it stopped completely. He cursed at it, in several languages, before getting out and making his way to the station on foot. He couldn’t see much of anything, thought the goggles helped.

Eventually his groping hands found the station door, and he threw himself in, slamming it behind him. Luckily, the door seemed to seal itself well enough, and no more sand got in, other than what was on Carlos.

The radio near the door was no longer playing static, but instead there was a long, suffocating silence. Oh god, Cecil. What had happened to Cecil? He wouldn’t have stopped broadcasting, unless…unless…

He took the stairs two at a time, past a glassy-eyed intern, past station management’s door, until he reached the familiar door to the studio. He threw it open, never mind the noise, because Cecil needed to be okay, and-

Cecil was okay.

He was standing next to his desk, holding the framed picture of himself and Carlos that he’d written “Me and Carlos” on in his tight, impeccable, penmanship. He seemed to be absorbed in the picture, and, to Carlos’ huge relief, completely unharmed.

“Cecil,” he breathed, chest rising and falling rapidly due to his sprint up the stairs.

“Hm?” Cecil jumped, as if he’d been startled, setting the picture down quickly and looking over at Carlos.

Carlos felt a sick twist in his stomach, and automatically took a step back. “C-Cecil?” Because those eyes, they weren’t Cecil’s eyes. They were black as the void, and as empty.

Cecil tilted his head, polite smile on his face, before that smile bloomed into- oh, God, could that really be called a grin? There had to be another word for it. “Carlos. So good to see you!”

Carlos involuntarily shuddered. Cecil’s voice was…well, it wasn’t bad, no demonic undertones or hissing noises, it was just…wrong. “Cecil, what’s wrong with- with your-“

“With my what?” Cecil cooed, stepping towards him.

Carlos tried to retreat again, but his back hit the wall. “With your eyes. And- your smile, and your voice. What’s-“

Cecil appeared to be mulling it over, and then his face lit up and he actually giggled. Those eyes landed back on Carlos and he felt his palms get sweaty. “Oh, Carlos, you overreact. But that’s okay, it’s cute. It’s just allergies, darling.”

He blinked at his boyfriend, taking a tentative step away from the wall. “Allergies?”

“Uh-huh! Sand must’ve fired them off again. Whoopsie! They usually mess with my voice and facial features a bit. It’s normal.”

Carlos supposed that it wasn’t completely a wild idea that in Night Vale allergies could change a person’s eyes, voice, and smile. In fact, as far a Night Vale went, that was pretty standard. Boring, even. And Cecil wasn’t exactly human- who knows what allergies did to…whatever he was.

Suddenly Carlos felt embarrassed for making such a big deal out of it. He was a scientist, for God’s sake. He was supposed to be level-headed and not allow emotions to control him. “Oh. Heh, sorry. The radio just went out and I kind of panicked.”

Cecil clasped his hands in front of him. “Oh, Carlos, you were worried about me? That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah.” Carlos shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “I guess you’re right, I did overreact.”

“But it’s fine, because it just means you care about me. You raced out in the storm to make sure I was okay. That’s so nice of you, sweetie.”

That made Carlos smile, a little bit, even if the compliments were coming from a strange voice. “It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s everything.” Cecil’s smile widened even further, almost splitting his face in two, but it didn’t seem to hurt him. He leaned against the control panel, still beaming at Carlos like he made the sun rise every morning.

Carlos may have winced at the way his boyfriend had far too many teeth all of the sudden, but it wasn’t his place to judge, especially not for something that Cecil couldn’t control, like having allergies. And he certainly wasn’t going to let Cecil think that Carlos thought he was, well, a little unsettling right now. That just wasn’t good boyfriend etiquette. So he walked over to where Cecil was standing, and leaned against the panel next to him, nudging Cecil’s shoulder with his slightly. “It’s no big deal.”

Cecil looked delighted at the contact, and, in a flash of movement so quick Carlos almost missed it, twisted and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Carlos’ mouth.

Carlos couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Cecil’s face, like he was a kid caught in the cookie jar. Cecil was still nervous about kissing him, the huge dork, despite the fact they’d done way more. The radio host was still looking at him out of the corner of his eye with a slightly nervous expression, so Carlos leaned over and kissed him, full on the mouth, to calm him down.

It seemed to work, as Cecil relaxed and went pliant under Carlos. His hands went up to his shoulders, clinging like a lifeline, and Carlos moved so that he was standing between Cecil’s conveniently spread legs, eliciting a gasp when he pushed one leg between his thighs.

If Cecil tasted different than he usually did, Carlos just shrugged it off. After all, he was still high off the relief that Cecil was okay, and when the other man reached down and hesitantly palmed his crotch, it felt just as good as it always had. Cecil’s teeth, as Carlos swept his tongue in Cecil’s mouth, were a little sharper than usual, but he supposed he could chalk that up to allergies too.

Cecil was getting really into the kissing, pressing closer and closer like he wanted to occupy the same space as Carlos. His hands returned to Carlos’ shoulders, and were his nails sharper than usual? As Cecil moaned, the points pressed through the fabric and against Carlos’ skin, poking to the point of pain. Ten sudden sharp stings- ow, he thought, wincing slightly- and another flash of pain when Cecil bit at his lip just a little too hard. “Cecil,” he said, attempting to pull away, but being held in place by those nail points, “you’re, ah, a little rough.”

Cecil’s new obsidian eyes glimmered with happiness and arousal. He didn’t respond to Carlos’ complaint, but put a hand on his chest- wait, were those claws?- and pushed until Carlos was forced to walk backwards, until he was once again pressed against the wall.  He grabbed one of Carlos’ wrists in each hand, pressing them up next to his head, keeping them pinned there.

The whole thing made Carlos just a little tense, but then Cecil was nuzzling at his neck and kissing along his jawline and he relaxed. Tilting his head back and closing his eyes, he sighed contentedly. Everyone once in awhile he didn’t mind giving up control to his boyfriend- in fact, he kind of enjoyed it. And Cecil seemed to have gotten the note earlier, as he was being gentle again-

Then there was an abrupt bite to the area just under his ear. Not the soft, teasing bites that Cecil would give him from time to time that made him pleasantly tingle, but a sharp, hard bite. “Ow,” he said, eyes flying open. “Cecil, careful.”

He could feel Cecil’s grin against his throat, and the grip on his wrists tightened to the point of discomfort. “Hey, Cecil. Cecil! You’re holding me kind of tight. Hey, ow, Cecil, I mean it!” He could almost hear the bones grinding together under Cecil’s hands, and he winced at the sensation. “Cecil, that hurts.”

There was a soft chuckle, muffled against his collarbone, and then another bite. Not just a bite, a bite. As in, Carlos could feel his skin breaking beneath those sharp teeth and the hot flow of his blood against the surrounding skin. “Ah! Hey, Cecil! Stop! This isn’t funny!”

No answer, except for a tongue lapping at the blood trickling from the bite mark, and Carlos was beginning to feel that cold twist of fear in his gut return, that feeling of wrongness. But it was fine, there was no need to panic. Cecil just…just didn’t realize he was being a little too rough. If Carlos could just get out from under him, he was sure he would be able to calm down and to explain to Cecil what was wrong.

He tugged his wrists out of Cecil’s grasp. At least, he tried to, but the other man had a vise-like hold on them and they didn’t so much as budge. Carlos tried again, harder, but to no avail. “Let me go. I’m not joking. Let me go!” He thrashed, trying as hard as he could to get away from that increasingly painful circle of Cecil’s fingers. He’d always known that his boyfriend was stronger than him, and had assumed it was because of his non-human status. It hadn’t ever bothered him, it was just part of who Cecil was. But now, it scared him. Cecil had him overpowered, and didn’t show any signs of stopping. “I mean it, let go!”

Cecil kissed him on the cheek, nuzzling against his face. “Mmm, sweet Carlos. So beautiful for me, aren’t you?”

Carlos swallowed hard, feeling the wounds on his neck throb when he did. Cecil wasn’t…wasn’t bothered by this struggles? What if he didn’t- Carlos shook his head violently getting rid of his own thoughts and making Cecil move away in the process. “Cecil,” he said, voice only shaking a little, “let me go. I don’t want to do this.”

The other man sighed happily. “You’re so adorable when you play games, Carlos.”

He squeezed Carlos’ wrists in a way that was probably meant to be affectionate, but the effect was lost when Carlos heard something snap.

A second later came the hot rush of pain and Carlos cried out loudly. He blinked at Cecil, eyes tearing up. “J-Jesus, Cecil, fuck, I think you just broke a bone- Aaah! Stop!” Because Cecil was kissing him again, little sweet kisses that only lingered a little, and his hands were still tight around Carlos’ wrists, shifting the broken bone in a way that had Carlos feeling the agony all the way down to the tips of his toes. “Cecil, s-stop, please, I need medical attention…”

“It’s okay,” Cecil said, sounding far more chipper than he had a right to, “I’ll take care of you!” With that, he let go of Carlos’ hand- Thank God, and Carlos almost sobbed with relief- and instead twined his fingers in Carlos’ hair. Carlos barely had time to think wait, what is before Cecil had slammed Carlos’ head backwards against the wall so hard that he saw stars and his knees buckled.

Cecil held him up, tilting his head back and biting again. Carlos wasn’t sure whether it was the fresh pain as those teeth tore into him or the sheer terror, but suddenly there were tears rolling down his cheeks. Fuck. Normally he’d think about Cecil when he was terrified and that calmed him down, but how could he, when Cecil was the one hurting him?

As if he could hear his thoughts, Cecil lifted his head and looked at Carlos sincerely with those damn onyx eyes. The smile- that fucking smile- was still on his face, looking bright and sunny as ever. He lifted a hand and gently trailed his fingers through Carlos’ tears. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

A flash of survival instinct broke Carlos out of his apathy and he kicked his legs frantically, trying to maybe startle Cecil enough to let him go.

He thought maybe he’d done it when one of his feet made firm contact with Cecil’s shins and Cecil hissed, as if in pain. But the smile just widened, and suddenly those claws were pressed against his sternum. “So playful, Carlos. So impatient.”

In one fluid movement, Cecil had dragged his hands down Carlos’ front, tearing the shirt he was wearing and a good deal of the skin underneath too. Carlos bit his lip to muffle the shriek that was trying to work its way out. “Cecil, please, no…”

“I love it when you beg.” Cecil’s eyes were bright, like a child who had just gotten a new toy. He kissed Carlos again, deeply, his shirt pressing against Carlos’ injured torso.

He had to get out of this. Something had gone terribly wrong. He didn’t want to hurt Cecil, but he just needed to get away by any means possible. So when Cecil ran his tongue along Carlos’ teeth again, Carlos bit down as hard as he could.

Cecil gasped and pulled away, and Carlos almost gagged at the taste of blood flooding his mouth. It dripped from his lips, probably partially his and partially Cecil’s.

He tried to wrench himself away again, but once again Cecil’s hands only tightened. The other man was looking at him with a huge grin, blood staining his teeth, and his black eyes were shining with- anger? Oh, fuck, no. Was that arousal? Carlos panicked, trying to kick Cecil again, but his efforts were frantic and ineffective.

“So forward!” Cecil practically purred, grabbed Carlos’ wrists again. Carlos gasped at the pain that shot through his broken wrist, but that was soon forgotten.

Cecil was a little taller than him, and now he raised Carlos up so that they were eye to eye. Carlos’ feet dangled uselessly only an inch or two off the ground. “No, Cecil, don’t- augh!” Cecil held him up by his wrists again, but instead of wrapping his fingers around them, he pressed his nails against the skin underneath, plunging the claws into Carlos’ forearms. Blood trickled down Carlos’ arms and dripped off his elbows.

Cecil pulled back slightly, giggling as he did. “This is so much fun, Carlos. You should visit the station more often.” Very gently, he pushed back one side of Carlos’ torn shirt, before viciously sinking his teeth into the area where his neck met his shoulder.

Carlos screamed, finally. He couldn’t feel anything else besides fear and pain, and he didn’t care anymore, he just wanted it to stop. “Cecil, please, stop, please!”

Another laugh, another bite. Carlos was beginning to get dizzy, but he wasn’t sure whether that was from his head being slammed into the wall, the blood loss, or the sheer terror he was experiencing. Either way, something told him that if he passed out he wasn’t waking back up.

Oh, god. And this was his boyfriend, his caring, sweet boyfriend. The guy who got excited over cat videos and played with his hair while they watched TV. The person who held him when Night Vale logic just became too much. Carlos would trust him with his life. And now-

“I bet your insides are just as pretty as your outsides,” Cecil sighed against his shoulder, slowly rocking his hips against Carlos.

Blind panic seized Carlos, and his mind kicked into overdrive. Cecil was going to gut him. He had to get away somehow. What were those self-defense videos his sister was always watching at home? He just needed to get Cecil to let him go long enough for him to escape- wait, maybe-

Carlos tilted his head backwards, gritting his teeth and fighting against his survival instincts as he made his neck even more vulnerable. Cecil must have noticed this, as he made a pleased noise and lifted his head to say something.

Which was just where Carlos wanted him.

He headbutted Cecil with all his might, using his raw fear to put force behind it. His teeth rattled and unbelievable pain blossomed in his forehead, but thank god, it worked. Cecil stumbled backwards, claws sliding out of Carlos with a wet shhlick.

The second his feet hit the ground, Carlos tore towards the door of the booth. He just needed to get outside, to his car, and he was golden. He would be safe. Maybe he’d come back later, with a team to help and some sedatives, but first he had to get out. The door was right there, he reached for the handle-

Suddenly two hands like hooks grabbed him around the waist and his feet left the ground. He hit the ground so hard that the wind was knocked out of him and he could only gasp for air as Cecil straddled him. “Ooh, I like it when you play games, Carlos. So much fun.”

The radio host pressed his now-bloodied hands against Carlos’ chest, leaning down and grinning at him good-naturedly. Carlos choked on the air he didn’t have as pain tightened his chest. Fuck, the way Cecil slammed him down must have broken a rib. “Cecil,” he wheezed, making a last effort at reason, “I’m not playing. Come on, it’s me, Carlos. Please…stop.” Cecil tilted his head, looking curious now, and of course he still was fucking smiling. “I’m begging you, Cecil, stop.”

Something flashed across Cecil’s eyes, and Carlos thought for just a minute he saw the smile flicker. He shuddered, as if in pain, and then he was beaming harder than ever, so much that Carlos though he might actually split the corners of his mouth. “You’re so silly, Carlos! Maybe you should ask StrexCorp to up your dosage!”

“Ask…what? Cecil, please, I need-“

“I know what you need,” Cecil said, giving him an exaggerated wink. He leaned down, framed Carlos’ face with his hands, and bit the side of his face, just above his jaw line.

Carlos screamed when he felt Cecil tear something off, and there was the rush of hot blood flowing down his face. “Cecil, no- Fuck!” Cecil had cheerfully wound a hand in a patch of Carlos’ hair near the back of his neck and pulled, and Carlos had definitely felt a chunk rip off.

Cecil embedded his- nails, claws, whatever- in Carlos’ sides and pulled down, tearing his flesh. Carlos squeezed his eyes shut, pain radiating all the way down to his bones. Maybe Cecil should just kill him, because there was no way his agony could be any worse.

For a second, Cecil’s hands stopped, and Carlos felt his breath freeze. Was he done?

But then the hands returned, resting on his abdomen, and suddenly Carlos was aware of two things: Cecil was hard, pressing against his thigh between the layers of clothing, and Cecil was currently undoing Carlos’ belt.

No, Carlos though, body flushing cold with terror. No, no, no. He flailed out with his uninjured arm, mind blank except for this can’t be happening, and was surprised when he actually felt his knuckles make contact.

Cecil just chuckled as the blow landed on his chin, like he didn’t even feel it. With surprising speed, he grabbed Carlos’ extended arm in a bear hug. “It’s alright, Carlos, you don’t have to do anything. Just lay back and enjoy it. This is about you.” With that, he squeezed and Carlos heard the sickening crunch of his bones once again breaking.

He thought he couldn’t be in more pain before, but this was worse. His arm fell uselessly to his side, and Carlos thought he might throw up from the sensations. Every part of him hurt just by existing, and every small movement by the man on top of him amplified it. His chest jerked erratically, struggling to even out his breathing against the waves of hurt.

In the white haze of pain, he’d almost forgotten about Cecil, who brought him back to reality by sinking his teeth into his chest, over his heart. After a second he pulled away and smiled at Carlos adoringly, blood dripping from his teeth.

Carlos sobbed and closed his eyes again, trying to pretend he wasn’t here, not with this Cecil and his black shining eyes and his smile that wasn’t a smile and his voice that wasn’t right. Cecil’s mouth pressed to his slack lips, and Carlos could taste his own blood on the other man’s tongue.

Cecil was undoing his belt again, pulling it out of the belt loops happily. Carlos looked down, feeling like his mind was about to break. So this was how it was going to end? Bleeding out on the radio station floor while his own boyfriend- while his boyfriend- ra- he was going to- going to rape him-

“Cecil, please!” Carlos was surprised by his own voice, by how loud and desperate it could still be. “Stop! Don’t do this! Please, don’t do this to me. Just stop, please.”

Cecil beamed back at him, hands pressed against the skin just above his waistband, thumbs resting on the button on his jeans. “Relax, Carlos. Don’t be a nervous nelly!”

Then the button was popped open, and Carlos couldn’t do anything, not with his useless broken bones and gaping wounds still gushing blood. He couldn’t do anything other than scream, and he did. “Cecil! Stop! Oh, God, please don’t! Cecil!”

Beyond his own pain howling in his head, he heard a loud bang, somewhere, and wondered if his heart had exploded. He almost hoped so, because he didn’t think he could handle what was about to happen.

And then: “Carlos, I heard screaming, I-”

With no small amount of effort, Carlos turned his head towards the studio door, where the voice was coming from. The door was flung open (that must’ve been the bang) but the truly important thing was that Cecil was standing there in the doorway, looking a little tattered and worse for the wear, but it was Cecil. The Cecil that Carlos knew, with his warm expressions and gentleness.

Two emotions flooded Carlos at once. One was relief, because Cecil was here and he was going to rescue him. The other was dread that chilled him to the bone because what was the thing on top of him?

The Not-Cecil’s nails dug into Carlos’ stomach in surprise, and Carlos swore he could feel them shifting in his organs. He winced and whimpered “Cecil,”and that broke the silence.

Cecil’s stare shifted to Not-Cecil above him, and his eyes began glowing like Carlos had never seen before. His tentacles were rapidly manifesting, stirring angrily. “Get. Away. From. Him.”

“Woah there, friend.” Not-Cecil lifted his hands, and Carlos didn’t look because he didn’t want to see the blood trickling from the puncture holes. “Calm down. It was only a joke.”

“Get away from him.” Cecil’s voice was lower, a growl that couldn’t be considered human by any stretch of the imagination.

“You see, friend, I saw your picture and we looked a lot alike, so I thought it might be funny to convince your friend that I was you! Sorry if we got a little carried away, you know how it is when you flirt and suddenly one thing leads to another-”

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Cecil snarled, crouching as if he was ready to pounce. “Get the hell away from him.”

“Okay, okay, this is all my bad.” Not-Cecil shrugged, as if he wasn’t still covered in blood. “I just want to give Carlos a hug first, alright? I feel like we shared something special.”

Carlos would have smiled, if not for the overwhelming pain. A hug? If that was all it took for Not-Cecil to leave him alone, he’d give him all the hugs he wanted. He glanced over at Cecil, who had a horrified expression, and realized that maybe a hug wasn’t a good thing just before the fingers closed around his throat.

They dug in tight, so tight that Carlos felt the nails breaking the skin and dimly thought that if Not-Cecil pressed any harder he might break his neck before he choked him.

Somewhere, underneath the frantic pounding of his own heart and the spots swimming in front of his eyes, he felt the ground shake underneath him and heard a loud inhuman roar. It was muffled, though, like he was underwater.

He was so tired, and hurt so badly, and maybe if he just gave in and slept…

Suddenly the weight on top of him was gone and there was nothing wrapped around his neck. He gulped in huge gasps of air, grimacing as his broken rib complained. He needed…to get to somewhere safe. He turned over and dragged himself away, crying out as his broken bones were jostled and his cuts were tugged, though he couldn’t even hear himself over the din going on behind him.

He ended up curled underneath Cecil’s desk, painfully and laboriously pulling his legs up against his chest. Out in the main area he could see the bloody spot where he had been laying, and the trail that following him to where he was. Somewhere just outside of his vision, a window shattered. “How dare you touch him-”

“Such luck! Two new friends in one day!”

Something crashed, and there was a high-pitched shriek. “I’m going to make you pray to whatever twisted god you believe in for the mercy of death!”

A giggle. “Wow, you sure have a way with words!”

Something opened on the wall, something gaping and blue-indigo-black, swirling. Papers started flying around the room as the- black hole?- began to suck objects in. The wind pulled at Carlos’ hair, his jacket.

“Oh, my!” Not-Cecil slid into his line of vision, being pulled backwards by the vortex. He was bleeding from several cuts, and his shoulder was twisted at an unnatural angle. A letter opened was stuck to the hilt in his leg. He was still smiling, despite the blood dripping into his eye. “I think it’s time for me to go?”

“NO. YOU DON’T GET TO LEAVE. NOT ALIVE.”

“Don’t worry, friend, I’m sure we’ll meet again sometime!” He glanced around, caught Carlos’ eye. “Goodbye, Carlos. It was really swell.”

 The vortex gave a yowl, and Not-Cecil was yanked backwards like he was attached to some invisible rope. Cecil screamed with rage and leapt at the spot where he used to be, but by then the vortex had closed and he was gone.

He hissed, pounding the ground with a fist. “God damn it!” Then he stopped cold, and whirled around frantically. “Carlos? Carlos!” His gaze followed the blood trail to where Carlos was currently huddling under the desk, and he rushed to his side. “Carlos, oh my god, I-”

He reached out, and Carlos shrunk back against the wall, not ready for more pain, not ready for those nails and teeth to tear him apart again. “N-No, please, don’t. Please.”

The other man hesitated, but still shuffled closer. “Carlos, I-”

“No!” Carlos curled in tighter on himself. “Please stop. I can’t take it. J-Just don’t hurt me anymore.”

After a long pause, Cecil (Not-Cecil?) said, very softly, “Carlos. It’s me. Look at me. Just look at me, okay?”

Carlos kept his face buried against his shoulder for a minute before he even dared to turn and get a glimpse of the other person, because if it was Not-Cecil again, he was going to break right there. But he was met with soft purple eyes, not black soulless ones, and that was Cecil’s low soothing voice speaking to him, and he wasn’t even smiling. Instead, he was actually frowning with worry, and Carlos never thought he’d be so happy to see a frown. “Cecil.”

“Yes.”

Carlos went to throw his arms around him, but completely forgot about his broken bones. “Ow, fuck.”

“Let me see.” Cecil’s fingers slid over his skin, so light he barely felt them, checking his wrist, his bite wounds, his blood-matted hair. “Hang on, we keep a first aid kit in here somewhere.”

Carlos managed to shuffle out from under the desk somehow, and sat there on the ground, feeling numb inside even as pain assaulted him from the outside.

“Okay, found it.” Cecil sat down next to him with an industrial-sized box of medical supplies. “We have a lot of accidents up here. Interns and…all that.” He found a pair of scissors, cutting away the blood-soaked and ruined lab coat and shirt.

Carlos felt the sting of the antiseptic, but only a little. His adrenaline was leaving him, and he just wanted to sleep forever. Maybe when he woke up with would all be a bad dream.

“Hey,” Cecil said softly, hand on his uninjured shoulder, “you still with me?”

Carlos nodded and lifted his head enough to allow Cecil access to the torn areas. For a minute, all was quiet as Cecil cleaned and bandaged him, taking care to not jostle Carlos any more than he had to. “I kissed him,” Carlos felt himself saying suddenly. Cecil looked up at him with concerned purple eyes, pausing as he unrolled a fresh dressing. “The Not-You. I thought he was you. He said his voice and everything wasn’t right because of the sandstorm. I kissed him, and he kissed me, and then things just started happening, and I- I-”

“Shhh.” Cecil cradled his face, careful to avoid the bites. “It’s okay. It’s all over now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. It was all his fault, not yours. I’m here now, alright? Just let me take care of you.”

Carlos let out a long sigh, tension leaving his body, and leaned against his boyfriend. His ribs complained, but nothing could have made him move from the safe warmth. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Cecil kissed his forehead, reaching around him to tie the bandages. “I don’t know what to do about your broken bones. We’ve got to get you to a doctor, but the cars won’t work until the sandstorm’s over, and I’m not letting you walk like this.”

“Just- wrap my wrist, and keep the bandages tight around my torso. We can try to sling up my arm after.”

“You’re so smart, Carlos.” Cecil smiled, just a little, and Carlos found it didn’t even make him afraid. Because this was Cecil, and his smile was warm and weary and concerned, but it was all the things that Carlos knew he could trust and believe in.

Cecil held a water bottle up to his lips and he drank until he couldn’t drink anymore, trying to counter the blood loss. “Can you just…hold me until the storm passes?” He would probably feel embarrassed later at the sappy request, but right now he just needed to know the Cecil was there.

Cecil looked conflicted. “Wouldn’t that hurt?”

“Not if we do it carefully.”

Slowly, Cecil wound his tentacles around Carlos until he was cocooned by the appendages. He would stop and pull back every time Carlos made a small noise that could be considered pain, and that was exactly what Carlos needed. That he didn’t even have to say the word “stop”, and Cecil would stop anyway. Cecil’s arms came last, one hand petting his hair soothingly and the other against his back, keeping him close.

Later, once they were back at Cecil’s house, smelling like antiseptic and completely doped up from the painkillers at the hospital, Carlos would tell him more, about the hands at his belt and the whispered words against his ear. And Cecil would shake with anger, would want to go find that dimension and tear the attacker limb from limb. But Carlos would pull him back down to where they had been lying on the bed, and press closer against him, and listen to Cecil’s crooning reassurances. You are safe. You are loved. I’m here for you.

And he’d drift off to sleep, knowing full well that he was going to have nightmares but also that he would survive them, and he’d wake up with a boyfriend who understood that sometimes he’d need to not be touched and other times he’d need to be held more than anything else.

Before he fell asleep completely, he’d amend his mental list. Scientists are survivors. That’s the first thing a scientist is.