Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cecil was angry. He had been angry for weeks now, burning like the earth, hiding it under a thin veneer of calm but he could feel his long fought for control slipping away as he listened to Lauren threaten his niece. How dare she. How dare she. He felt a snarl bubble to his lips but suppressed it ruthlessly. Despite what many believed, he was in fact well versed in art of hidings one’s emotions. Night Vale was a magnificent town, but over time it had gained the habit of turning those who knew it hard and cold. And Cecil had known Night Vale for a very long time now.

But, it was one thing to put yourself back together, and quite another entirely to have to watch those you love fall apart. Cecil felt his hands curl into claws even as he kept smiling and looking into Lauren’s eyes.

“Cecil?” Lauren queried, “Don’t you agree? Life would just be so much easier for everyone if you… were a little more careful with your words. After all, you have a responsibility to Night Vale and, since Stexcorp does own all of Night Vale, to Strex as well. We know you’re having some difficulties adjusting, would you and a few of your… confidantes like a therapy session? I know a wonderful counsellor. Why, Kevin saw him when he was having difficulties and look how well he’s doing now!”

Cecil shook his head, then- forcing his grin even wider- replied,”Thank you Lauren but that’s really not necessary.”. Cecil could feel his heart pounding like a jack rabbit against his rib cage as he internally prayed to every deity that had ever looked kindly upon Night Vale. Please, let him be enough to stop this. “I wouldn’t want to damage my productivity by taking a break, after all the work we do here is so important.”, he continued, desperately hoping his words were enough to get him out of this, too.

Cecil watched with guarded eyes as Lauren appeared to consider his words. At last, she appeared to come to a conclusion and nodded decisively. “Of course it’s your choice, Cecil” she simpered, “But I do hope you’ll come to me if you are having any problems at all. You can trust us here at Strex, Cecil. You do know that, don’t you?”.

Cecil felt her eyes searching him hungrily for any cracks in his facade and nodded silently, not trusting himself not to scream and rage at the unfairness of it all if he opened his mouth. At last, he choked out something about the time and how he ought to go home before spinning on his heel and scurrying out.

On his way out, Cecil collided with Daniel. 

“Watch it, Palmer” he snapped, waiting half expectantly for a snappy rejoinder from the rebellious radio host. Instead, he was greeted with an almost desperate apology.

Grabbing Cecil’s arm, he spun him around to face him, his emotion analysis programs automatically noting the lack of blood in his face and the raised speed of his heart. Something had Palmer running scared.

Despite all of his programming, Daniel had come to appreciate Cecil’s dry wit and so, feeling a flicker of sympathy for the obviously terrified man, he asked, “Is something wrong, Palmer?”.

“I-“ Cecil began, then, ”No,no. Thank you, but no. Nothing is wrong. I’m- that is, I just need to get home. It’s been a long day. Not that I’m complaining, of course.” he hastened to add.

Daniel raised an eyebrow skeptically, “Right, you’re just fine.” he said.

Cecil’s face flushed abruptly. Twisting himself out of Daniels grip he remarked acerbically, “I am, actually.”, before striding off, any courage leaving him as quickly as it had come.

Daniel stood and watched him go, refusing to lower himself to chasing after Palmer, before turning to continue on his journey, only to see Lauren staring at him from the direction Cecil had come from. He paused, wondering what, if anything, she’d done to Cecil, before dismissing the quandary from his mind in order to focus on other, more important things, like work.

Cecil, meanwhile, hurried towards his car, desperately wanting to go home and feel safe. Sighing in relief as he left the radio station, he spent a moment in silent mourning for the times when he had been more at ease in that one building than anywhere else in Night Vale. Now, each time he entered the studio he could feel terror flood his body, and not just normal, government mandated terror, either.

Sliding into his car Cecil fumbled with his keys, all his energy suddenly draining out of him. Closing his eyes, he leant his head back until it hit the headrest and simply let himself let go of some of the tension which had been knotting his stomach since Lauren had asked him about Janice. He had been so scared. Angry, yes, but it was a helpless kind of anger, the type that comes with the knowledge that there is nothing you can do. Starting up his car, Cecil began to drive home, suddenly more desperate than ever to be as far away from any part of Strexcorp as possible.

Once he had arrived at his small little house, Cecil collapsed onto the worn paisley sofa which he had brought second hand from Old woman Josie back when he first moved in. Curling up into a small ball he reached for the thick, soft knitted throw lying nearby and draped it over himself. Once ensconced in this cocoon of warmth, he finally allowed himself to feel the full weight of the day’s events.

It was times like these that he desperately wished he had someone to come home to. Someone to hold him, to tell him everything would be okay, that there was no monster coming to eat him. Someone to lie to him.

His thoughts drifted to Carlos and for a moment he considered calling him, before a blanket of depression crushed him as he remembered that he no longer had that right. Not since Carlos’ funding had run out and he’d had to leave Night Vale 6 months ago. It still hurt every time he thought about it, losing the safe-haven Carlos had represented to him. He supposed he should be grateful- it was one less person for Strex to threaten him with. Of course, it was also one less person to support him.

Cecil slept, and dreamt of revolution- and a pair of glowing yellow eyes.

Chapter Text

Daniel finished recharging at 3am. He had been designed to be as efficient as possible as so it only took him 3 hours to completely refill his batteries. Most days he appreciated this as it allowed him plenty of time to work, however today he found that he couldn’t concentrate on the multitude of forms he should be filling out or the advertisements he could be preparing, instead Palmer was constantly invading his thoughts.

He groaned. Honestly, even when the man wasn’t physically there he was ruining Daniel’s day. There was no reason for Daniel to be worried about Palmer- he didn’t even like him! Cecil was disrespectful, and rebellious, and had absolutely no interest in promoting the well being of Strexcorp- all things Daniel normally hated to see in anyone, let alone an employee on whom so much- unavoidably- rested on. Besides, either Lauren had finally gotten through his thick skull-quite possibly literally- in which case he ought to be pleased, or the irritating woman had failed to convince Cecil to behave yet again, in which case life would continue as it had been. 

…

Palmer had looked so scared. Daniel kept replaying that moment over and over, the images moving faster and faster each time as his visual processors tried to keep up with his feverish though processes. That strange apology- the first he had ever received from Cecil, the angry spark in his eyes as he snapped at Daniel, which was extinguished all too soon as he seemed to become  physically smaller. Something was definitely wrong and despite himself Daniel… cared.

Oh Smiling God, he cared about Palmer! This had never happened to him before.

Daniel quickly resolved to never, ever mention this, or even think on it. Denial may not be productive, but in this case admitting his problem would likely be even worse. His loyalty was always owed first and foremost to Stexcorp and entertaining any feelings for Palmer- who everyone knew hated everything about them- would only cause him pain in the long run.

In that moment, Daniel hated Cecil Gershwin Palmer. Caring for him, having any emotions towards him at all was a mistake. And any mistake is a flaw that allows in imperfection.

Yet Daniel found that it was far too easy to forgive Palmer. The man simply seemed to care so much and honestly believed that he was doing the right thing. It was difficult not to admire that kind of conviction, even as Daniel found it exceptionally irritating. He himself had never experienced such a strong belief that he was doing the right thing- he suspected it was a human thing.

Suddenly, Daniel cursed as bright red numbers superimposed themselves over his eyes- it was 9:00am, time to start work. This was strange as he was sure that it had been 3:00am last time he had checked. He blamed Palmer. His internal clock always seemed to play up when he was thinking about Palmer. He should probably get that checked if he wanted to be as productive as possible. 

Cecil woke up when the light streaming into his living room hit his closed eyes. He immediately closed his eyes and went back to sleep, all the while damning the ‘utterly ridiculous time’ to the very depths of the seven hells. 

When he next awoke, it was a quarter to eight. He immediately sprung off the couch he had fallen asleep on last night and sprinted to the shower where he simultaneously washed, brushed his teeth, combed his hair and made his daily offering to the glow cloud.

Quickly dressing, he burst out of the door and threw himself into the car, determined not to be late again.

On his way to work, Cecil passed by a twisted hunk of bright yellow metal, something unidentifiable as, yet unmistakably a yellow helicopter. Deep within the confines of his car, something loosened within Cecil’s chest, and he smirked, as he saw undeniable proof that Night Vale was still fighting back, that neither Tamika Flynn- nor anyone else- had given up on their town just yet.

Arriving at Night Vale Community Radio Station, he felt this buoyancy drain out of him, as he entered the building and was reminded by the glaring white lights and ‘motivational’ posters how much everything had changed, and of the extent to which Strex had him under their thumb.

As he turned into the corridor containing his broadcasting booth, be was accosted in the hallway by Lauren.

“Cecil” she squealed, a large, simpering smile plastered on her face,”Just the man I wanted to see. Now, I’m sure you’ve heard about the terrible accident this morning, and so I thought that we could give the people of Night Vale some good news- that although you’ve been having some problems adjusting to the Stexcorp way, you’re now ready to fully embrace everything we have to offer. Just a quick apology for the trouble over the last few months, and perhaps a attempt to calm those who are a little… riled up. We here at Stexcorp understand that change can be hard to accept, but it is for the best.”

Cecil felt his stomach drop 3 storeys- no mean feat considering they were on the ground floor. There was no way this could end well. He couldn’t betray Night Vale, but he couldn’t sacrifice those he loved either. Old Woman Josie, Earl Harlan, Janice- there were too many people Strex could hurt him with and no way for him to ensure those people were safe.

Cecil sagged, all his energy abandoning him, then “Of course, Lauren. I’d be happy to help.”.

Lauren’s grin stretched even wider, easily taking up half of her face. “That’s great, Cecil. Just great.” she squealed, “I knew you could be such a team player when you put your mind to it”. So saying, she swanned off, no doubt to terrorise some other innocent who Cecil couldn’t help.

Breathing heavily, Cecil dashed the last five feet or so into the relative safety of his booth, where his legs gave out, causing him to sink to the floor and lean against the door.

After some time, he gathered the strength necessary to push himself up and stagger to his desk, where he collapsed bonelessly into his chair, resting his head in his hands. He didn’t know what to do.

Suddenly, he heard a banging at the door, and Daniel’s voice floated into the room “Show starts in 10 minutes, Palmer”.

“Thank you, Daniel.” Cecil called back, too tired to even begin to contemplate making some kind of rude or clever comment.

Daniel paused outside of Cecil’s door for a moment, wondering about the radio host’s defeated tone, before reminding himself sharply that he didn’t care and continuing on his way.

Inside the booth, Cecil began to set his equipment up for another show, preparing the weather and gathering his notes together. It was with trembling hands that he placed the memo Lauren had given among the other leafs of paper and shuffled it to the back. He still hadn’t the slightest clue what he was going to do.

As he watched the red lights counting down to when he would be on air, Cecil ran through the shows itinerary one more time and felt his pounding heart begin to slow down. He was born to do this; he was born to be the Voice of Night Vale. And as he launched into his opening lines, Cecil felt himself become lost in the words he was speaking to the microphone hovering before him.

However, as the show began winding down, Cecil knew that he couldn’t procrastinate forever, and so with a sinking heart, he began “Citizens of Night Vale, in the last few months there have been some… tensions between my new employers and I. I am happy to report that these tensions are now over and I am happy and excited to begin to fully contribute to Strexcorp Synernists incorporated.”carefully modulating his voice in order to sound peppy and cheerful, Cecil looked up to see Lauren looking in through the glass window in the door of his recording booth. Raising one perfectly manicured hand, she made a small, circular motion. Go on. Cecil swallowed, “And I would  also like to encourage everyone who is having difficulty accepting Strexcorp as a vital part of our fair town’s future to…” here he tailed off. “To seek…” he tried, again. At last, he sighed, then, feeling confident in his actions for the first time since he had snapped at Daniel the night before, he grabbed the microphone, and spoke. “People of Night Vale, do not follow Strex. Do not trust them. When they speak, cover your ears. They want to hurt our town, but we are Night Vale. We are strong.”. Here, he almost growled,”Our god is not a smiling God.”. Outside the recording booth, Lauren dropped her nail file in horror. 

Without warning, all of Cecil’s rage left, leaving him trembling and terrified of what he had just done. “Janice, everyone, I’m sorry. I’ve put you all in danger. But you need to run. Hide. I can’t protect you and be the Voice of Night Vale at the same time. So, for perhaps the last time, Goodnight, Night Vale, Goodnight.”.

Standing up, Cecil store out of the recording booth, brushing past Lauren without saying a word, before exiting NVCR. He did this in complete silence, as there appeared to be no one willing to speak to or even acknowledge him. Eventually he was able to navigate to his car and back to his home, under unknown watchful eyes.

Chapter Text

The next day Cecil woke up at 7am. He brushed his teeth and combed his hair and dressed neatly for work. And the entire time terror lurked just under his skin and air caught in his throat every time he took a breath.

At eight O’clock he left his house, making sure to lock up securely in case… He drove to work slowly and carefully, making sure not to break any traffic laws or do anything to get himself in trouble. However, luck seemed to be on his side. Lights turned green as he approached them and he even thought he saw one of the sherifs secret police give a salute from their watchful position on the side of the road.

As he drew closer and closer to the station he felt more and more as if he should simply take his own advice and run. But he could not. He was the voice of Night Vale and that simple fact drove him ever forward.

Entering the station, Cecil was surprised to find that he was not immediately seized by Lauren and her associates. He soon noticed that not only was Lauren absent, the appeared to be no one in the entire station.

His curiosity getting the best of him, Cecil began to cautiously scour the building, searching for some sign of life. Rounding a corner into management’s hallway, Cecil collided with a hard, well-defined chest.

Looking up, he gasped, “Daniel! Where is everyone?”.

Daniel stared down at Cecil mutely, a hard, unreadable expression on his face. For a moment Cecil  thought he saw a flicker of regret or indecision flash across the biomachine’s feature, but it was gone too quickly for it to be anything more than a trick of the light.

“Palmer” Daniel managed eventually, his deep voice sounding oddly tight as he spoke to Cecil, “You have had a therapy session scheduled for you all day today. You’ll be collected at nine O’clock and be returned home upon its completion. Kevin will be covering your show today.”

Cecil stumbled backwards, feeling like he had been punched in the stomach. His thoughts were suddenly spiralling out of control with horror stories of exactly what ‘therapy’ entailed cycling through his mind, each worse than the last. But the worst thing was, he knew what the consequences of something like that would be.

“Therapy?” he was eventually able to choke out, “Daniel, please, I- I can’t-”.

“Dammit, Cecil, don’t you realise how lenient this is? You think anyone else would have gotten away with something this light? Do you think you would have gotten away with this if I hadn’t intervened?” Daniel demanded, fists clenching at his sides as he attempted to stop himself from grabbing onto that insufferable twat Palmer and… and just… Why couldn’t the man see that this was for his own good? He would be safe and happy while Daniel could finally stop worrying about how to juggle his management of the radio station and his feelings towards Palmer.

“This isn’t lenient! I can’t do this! Daniel if you’ve ever cared at all about me, you won’t let them do this. ” Cecil knew he was grasping at straws, knew that whatever Daniel felt for him was not nearly enough to make him help, but Gods; he wanted to believe in someone.

“Cecil,”Daniel hissed, “of course I… like you. I just spent most of the night trying to keep Lauren from ripping you apart into your component atoms and simply hiring Kevin full time. But my first loyalty is always to Strexcorp, and no matter how much I have come to appreciate you over my time here in Night Vale, I will not let them down.”

“Daniel, please, you don’t understand! They’ll make me do things, and say things, things I can’t say or do. Night Vale needs to be free, please Daniel, it tearing me apart!”. Cecil’s voice broke on the last word, as he shook so violently he was barely comprehensible, “I can’t- I won’t- I must not betray my town.”

“Smiling God, Palmer!” Daniel muttered, “Why are you so, so…”. Daniel’s hands flew up to grasp the radio hosts lapels, almost of their own accord, and pulled Cecil towards him, his lips meeting his in an almost bruising kiss.

Sparks flew. No, sparks literally flew. One of them burned Cecil, causing him to pull back with a gasp and a curse. 

Before either of them could speak, Lauren and Kevin came around the corner. “Why, hello friend!” Kevin gasped, a large grin on his permanently cheerful face, “I heard you’ve been having some trouble, but don’t you worry, therapy will have you straightened up double quick, and in the mean time I’ll take good care of all your listeners!”.

“Isn’t that nice of him Cecil?” Lauren enquired cooly, “Doing extra work so that you can have the time needed to become your full, productive self. That’s the kind of work ethic we like to see at Strexcorp. And we know you won’t disappoint us.”.

So saying, Lauren grabbed Cecil’s arm and began dragging him along with her. “Come along, Cecil.” she murmured, “Mr. Black is excepting you. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

In desperation, Cecil twisted in her vice-like grip to stare beseechingly at Daniel, begging him silently to understand, to help him. Instead, he was treated to the sight of Daniel silently turning away from him, before he felt a sharp, stinging pain in the side of his neck, and everything went dark.

Cecil woke up slowly. The first sense to return was sound, and for a few seconds he listened groggily to voices which spoke words with no discernible meaning. Abruptly, his memory returned, leaving him disoriented and wishing he was anywhere else.

Attempting to sit up in order to survey his surroundings, Cecil found he could not move. A quick check of his senses revealed that he was not tied down, he had simply had all motor control taken away from him.

A door creaked in the corner of the room and Cecil heard soft footsteps moving towards him. His eyes strained, attempting to capture a glimpse of the mysterious therapist, but he found he could not see anything but a white lab coat, before tan hands gently closed his eyes. Then, he found his ears being covered up with noise isolating headphones and- to his horror- his throat and mouth being slowly, lovingly filled up with thick cotton wool.

As he lay there in the dark, Cecil felt completely cut off from everything he had ever known, as if all the gods of his childhood had deserted him. And when he felt the first hit, for a moment, he regretted ever speaking out.

Cecil returned to work the next day, feeling utterly drained in both mind and soul. He delivered the news, and gave his show, and he refused to tell his town to lay down their arms and roll over for Strex. And he was punished for it. 

He went to therapy every day, and no matter what he tried, he found he only became more and more tired, and more and more worn down as the weeks went by. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t rest. Every time he closed his eyes he saw blinding, yellow light.

He could no longer speak out against the tyrants occupying Night Vale- he tried, oh how he tried. But every time he opened his mouth to speak, he would catch Lauren’s eye, watching him from behind the door, and his throat would close up and his heart would turn to ice. Strexcorp had taken away his Voice- he had nothing now.

The only time when he found any semblance of peace was when he was being distracted by Daniel. Daniel, who still refused to help him, but in whose face he thought he had begun to see some semblance of care.

Chapter Text

Khoshekh was being declawed. Cecil hovered anxiously outside the mens bathroom and listened to his cats yowling. He had tried to stop them, but Lauren had bundled him out of the room with a severe expression and informed him archly that Khoshekh was far too dangerous to be allowed to keep his claws. Cecil had fought bitterly but ultimately he had fallen to Strex and Lauren.

Cecil was no longer as strong as he was. The last few months of grave torture at the hands of 'Mr Black' had taken their toll on him physically and the constant tearing sensation of no longer being able to be truly one with Night Vale was slowly wearing away any resistance he had within him. 

Cecil and Night Vale had a symbiotic relationship, with Cecil speaking for the town, and Night Vale supporting Cecil. Unknowingly, in taking away Cecil’s ability to speak out loud the thoughts of Night Vale, Strexcorp had torn out a essential part of Cecil.

Strexcorp had taken his white-hot rage and twisted and tempered it into a grotesque, agonising smile. There was an aching, gaping hole in Cecil’s chest which Strexcorp had put there, and the worst part was he couldn’t even hate them for it.

He couldn’t really feel anything anymore.

He was losing himself.

As Lauren swept out of the bathroom, her assistant trailing close behind her, Cecil brushed past her in his haste to get to his cat. Reaching out to stroke Khoshekh’s soft fur, Cecil felt tears roll down his face. One, two, three, a deluge of salt water poured free as Cecil’s breath turned into hitching sobs. “I’m sorry. Gods, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean- I never, ever wanted you to be hurt. I just want you all safe”. Not entirely sure who he was addressing anymore, Cecil crumpled to the grimy bathroom floor, face buried in Khoshekh’s body as he continued to cry, entire body racked with tremors from the force of his sobs.

Cecil eventually ran out of tears and simply lay sprawled on the floor, lacking utterly the energy or motivation to move, or even speak. He felt at that moment, that if he could, he would simply stop breathing, allowing himself to drift away. He was so tired.

Above him Khoshekh howled angrily, the sound echoing throughout the room and spreading through the radio station. Cecil reached up slowly, “It’s okay, Khoshekh,” he soothed, mistaking the cat’s worry for pain, “It’s going to be okay. I’ll- I’ll protect you.”. So saying, he allowed his head to thunk back down onto the hard, linoleum floor, feeling the weight of yet another promise settle onto his hunched shoulders.

Suddenly hearing footsteps making their way towards the bathroom door, Cecil reached his tired arms up to pull himself into a sitting position. Before he could wipe the tears or snot from his face, however, the door burst open to reveal Daniel.

Seeing Cecil fallen on the floor caused Daniel systems to freeze for a moment, in order to give his processors time to cope with what he was seeing. Daniel worried for a second that something had gone wrong with his internal systems, as seeing Cecil in such a state caused his chest to wrench. In two large strides he reached Cecil’s side and, bending down, carefully gathered the man up in his arms before standing and leaving the dingy room, taking Cecil with him.

Walking down the corridor to his office, Daniel was thankful he did not encounter any other employees who may ask questions as to why he was carrying the resident radio host. He did pass Maureen, who looked sympathetically at Cecil for a moment before raising her dark eyes to glare at him in hatred. However, perhaps seeing the way Cecil instinctively sought comfort in Daniel’s embrace, she chose not to comment.

Upon entering his office, Daniel deposited Cecil in a chair opposite his desk and paused for a moment, wondering how best to proceed. Recently, while looking at Cecil he had found he had to grudgingly admit to a small spark of emotion stirring in his chest. He didn’t have the slightest idea what to do with it, however he knew that he should absolutely not allow it to dictate any actions relating even tenuously to his work.

Now he had been placed in the awkward position of suddenly realising a relationship of convenience had become something more while he wasn’t paying attention. He wanted to spend time with Cecil, to make him happy, to give him freedom just to see what he would do with it. It was all extremely troublesome. Daniel sat down in his chair, opposite Cecil.

Cecil looked up at him with a sheepish expression on his face. “Sorry”, he muttered, face burning with embarrassment, “It’s just… hard, right now.”.

Daniel paused momentarily, before replying quietly, “It’s all right, I know how hard you’re finding this.”

Cecil’s eyes shone with gratefulness. “Thank you,” he said, “You’ve helped me a lot over the last few months” here, he blushed, “And you’ve always… been there when I needed you.”.

Daniel smiled back at Cecil, not a forced grin but a soft, gentle smile. He had suddenly realised one foolproof way to comfort Cecil. “Cecil, due to your most recent employee evaluation, which informed us that your guilty of work has drastically improved, Strexcorp have awarded you a bonus”. Daniel waited expectantly, glad to have been the one to deliver the news. His memory banks informed him that the typical reaction to this type of news was joy, and he looked forward to seeing it.

Cecil smile fell to the floor and shattered like glass. “Take it back. Take it back RIGHT NOW!” Cecil screamed the last few words as he felt angry again for the first time in months. The sudden rush of emotion left him reeling and yet he found his head was clearer than it had been since his first bout of therapy.

Daniel jerked backwards, surprise etched onto his features, “Cecil, what’s wrong with you?” he asked in as calm and even a tone as he could manage, “This is a good thing, it means Strexcorp are beginning to trust you.”.

Cecil ground his teeth together, the words Daniel was innocently speaking pulling in his chest, “You shouldn’t trust me.” he growled, “I would sooner rip Strexcorp apart with my bare hands, piece by piece, than see my town fall to them. I will never be a good employee!”.

Daniel found himself quite discomposed, “Cecil, it’s the duty of all employees to be loyal and-“

Cecil brutally cut off Daniel, “Duty! You’re just like all of them. I thought you were different, but you’re not.”, at this point Cecil had quite lost control of his mouth and went directly for Daniel’s exposed throat, “I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to understand,” he sneered, “after all, you’re not even human. What would you know about feelings?”

Daniel’s vision pulsed vibrant yellow, once, twice, “About as much as you appear to,” he retorted, “After all, once your scientist boyfriend disappeared you seemed all too eager to-“

“You’re cruel” spat Cecil, “You’re cruel and cold and heartless and I wish I had never-”. There, he stopped, all his energy seemingly expelled. Turning silently he went to leave. Pausing for a split second at the door, with his back turned to Daniel, he breathed silently, “I wish I had never fallen in love with you” before walking off as fast as his legs could carry him.

Chapter Text

Cecil was burning with the righteous anger of one who has been pushed too far one too many times. He had been hurt, humiliated, harassed, but this. This he would not accept. He would never be Strexcorp’s lapdog, he would never be a good employee.

The scorching heat of his fury had burned away the cotton wool wrapped around his mind and allowed him to think freely for the first time in what felt like aeons. And he knew what he had to do. He had to ensure that he never again allowed his mind to be taken and warped into a shape he didn’t even recognise.

As soon as the thought occurred to him, a plan to enable him to do that unfolded in his mind. Cecil recoiled in horror at the idea, and as he did so he felt the first tendrils of softness reach in, eager to snare his mind and blunt his sharp edges once more. Instinctively, he rebelled against it’s light touch, and even as he did so, he realised that, for once, he may have no choice but to fight. Many times, he had bemoaned his helplessness as he sat safely ensconced in his office, but for the first time he truly realised that not even his radio booth was safe now. He had nowhere to run, he had to stand his ground.

Cecil heard raised voices and running footsteps nearby and knew that he had relatively little time left to prepare himself. Moving quickly, he darted across his office to his desk where, among other things, he kept an ornate, extremely sharp letter opener. Seizing it he quickly tucked it into one boot, carefully hiding it to ensure it couldn’t be seen.

Then, swinging himself around, he marched resolutely towards the door. Opening it, he was able to take 4 steps before encountering two of the guards looking for him. Before either could say a word, Cecil spoke politely but firmly, “Excuse me, but I believe I am in need of some more therapy.”

The two guards looked at each other confusedly, before both simultaneously grabbing one of Cecil’s arms and pulling him in the general direction of Lauren’s office, loosening their grip upon realising Cecil was not resisting them. Upon their arrival, the first of the two stepped forward and rapped sharply on the door, before clearly and precisely informing her of what had transpired. Lauren jerked her head up so quickly Cecil worried for a moment that she would give herself whiplash, before that strange crystal calm set in and reminded him that he didn’t care.

“Cecil”, she squealed, her sickening smile widening even more, “I’m so glad you’ve decided to accept how much help Strexcorp can offer you and stop resisting the light. Now that you’ve surren- ahem, accepted your role, I know we’re going to be such friends.”

Cecil smiled brittlely back at her. “I’m afraid I am in need of a little therapy, still. That’s actually why I’m here talking to you” he said, pleasantly but cooly.

“Of course, Cecil” Lauren enthused, “I’ll arrange it right now. It’s wonderful that all of the many sessions you’ve had have begun to take effect and even better that you’re admitting you have a problem.” Reaching over to the phone laying on her polished mahogany desk, Lauren spoke a few sharp words into the receiver, before replacing it. “There we are,” she beamed, “Security will be along shortly to escort you to your appointment with Mr. Black”

“Lovely”, Cecil replied, short, barbed and completely devoid of emotion.

Lauren’s smile faltered for a moment before returning to full brightness as two different guards walked in, moving to stand at each side of Cecil like wings. The slightly taller guard on the right reached up to Cecil’s neck, syringe in hand. Before he could push in the needle Lauren interjected, ”Oh, that won’t be necessary. Cecil is coming quite voluntarily.”.

The guard lowered his arm and the two of them flanked Cecil out of the building. On his way out of Lauren’s office, Cecil saw Daniel and watched as he moved to help him, before aborting the gesture halfway through. He closed his eyes and faced forward again.

He was brought to an unmarked yellow van, where he was settled into the back and his hands and ankles were bolted to the chair ‘for his own safety’.

Cecil sat in the van, alone, staring at the faded walls, covered with chipboard and old bloodstains covered over with the newly spilled blood of Night Vale. He waited patiently, after all, he had been waiting for months, even if he didn’t realise it, so what was a few more hours?

Arriving at the facility he had been dragged into after almost every show since his rebellion, Cecil felt ice encase his heart and his stomach fall.

This was a place where he had never felt safe, and simply being there was stopping all his thoughts as terror gripped him. He couldn’t do this. “Please,” he pleaded silently, with Gods he no longer trusted, “Don’t make me do this. I can’t do this. I can’t go into that building and pretend to be okay because I’m not”.

Cecil found to his horror that tears where slipping from his eyes in huge quantities as he continued moving towards the stark, sterile white doors which controlled entrance to and from the compound.

Entering the structure he was nearly overwhelmed by the memories of what had happened to him there over the last few months. He had been haunted by nightmares and his inability to speak of this place but today he would end it.

Quickly and efficiently, Cecil was escorted through a maze of doors and corridors, to a door which seemed out of place in the impersonal environment of Strexcorp. This door was covered in stickers displaying messages such as ‘Science is Cool’ and ‘Geek and Proud’, as well as pictures of famous physicists such as Einstein. Cecil frowned at the door, a memory tugging at the corner of his mind, but before he could think on it further, he was pushed into the dimly lit room.

He scanned the room, but for several seconds could see nothing as his eyes gradually adjusted to the contrast in light from the brightly lit halls of Stexcorp. Regaining his vision, he was able to see that the room was empty. Casting his eyes around, he saw a small sofa pushed into one corner of the room and he made his way over to it.

Settling down, Cecil reached for the letter opener in his boot, while instinctively adjusting himself into the most comfortable position on the couch. Realisation hit. He had sat on this couch so many times before, waiting for-

The door opened, Cecil’s head turned, and he breathed a single word, “Carlos.”.

Carlos looked over at Cecil and smiled happily, “Cecil” he cried, “It’s so good to see you up and about instead of lying down. And having a proper conversation with you is just, well just wonderful.”

Cecil could’t speak, couldn’t even breathe, he was too bust trying to reconcile the monster he had created in his imagination with the man standing in front of him now- the man he had laughed with, played with, loved. It seemed impossible that someone who had always been so kind, so good, had caused him such anguish.

Carlos noticed a glint of light at Cecil’s side and, stepping forward, he was able to identify it as a knife of some sort. Moving slowly but firmly he moved towards Cecil, intending to disarm him.

Cecil’s arm moved to point the letter opener waveringly at Carlos. The scientist didn’t even hesitate, reaching up to grab Cecil’s wrist with one hand he pulled the makeshift weapon out of Cecil’s unresisting fingers.

Tutting slightly, he turned and put the letter opener behind him, out of arms reach. Turning back to Cecil he shook his head in mock disappointment, “Honestly Cecil, that’s not the sort of thing I expected from you.”

Breathlessly, Cecil replied, “Well, this isn’t exactly what I’d expect from you either.”.

“Every couple has secrets.” Carlos shot back, “What are you doing here, Cecil? I doubt you’d risk all of this just to meet me.”

Cecil’s voice shook as he made his demands, “I want you to fix whatever it is you’ve done to me. I want to be able to be the voice of Night Vale again. I want my throat to stop seizing up every time I try to rally Night Vale, and for my mind to stop being clogged with cotton wool. I want to be free, and Carlos” he added, “I’ll do whatever it takes.”.

Carlos stared for a few seconds, before bursting into giggles, “Fix you! Cecil, dear, whatever do you think we did to you?”. In seconds he sobered dramatically, “All those things you’re talking about, Cecil, it’s not me who’s responsible for them, it’s you. It’s your fear that is stopping you. And that fear has always been a part of you, all I did was bring it into the light.”

Chapter Text

“You’re lying,” Cecil accused, voice wavering “You- you have to be lying. It’s not fair.”

“Oh, Cecil” Carlos cooed, “It’s all going to be alright. Just put a smile on your face, Strexcorp will take care of you.”

The world swam in front of Cecil’s eyes as he struggled to remain upright. Hearing those words, said in that voice was like a bucket of ice water and he didn’t know what to think. He had always, always trusted Carlos, even after he had left.

“What are you doing here, Carlos?” Cecil asked, hoping against hope that there was some sort of reason that wasn’t just that he had never cared, that it had all been lies.

Carlos brightened. “Why don’t you come and take a tour? We’re all very proud of our work here at Strexcorp. And the funding is wonderful, the opportunities for science are innumerable. Of course, we are restricted in what we can study, this is a commercial venture, but the regulations are really quite lax.”

Cecil shifted uncomfortably, before nodding in acquiescence. He would happily jump on any chance to get out of this room, where the very air made his skin crawl and his heart beat pick up. At this moment he honestly believed that he could pick this room out of a thousand identical others, all he’d have to do is listen for his muted screams.

Following Carlos back into the brightly lit main rooms of Strexcorp, Cecil squinted his eyes, momentarily blinded. When he could see again, he had to stifle a gasp. The room before him was huge, stretching further than he could see, and every possible bit of space was utilised.

Carlos watched Cecil with an odd look in his eyes. Smiling slightly at Cecil’s expression as he took in the workshop, he lightly grabbed Cecil’s arm and pulled him along, intending to make him realise exactly what Strexcorp could offer him.

Releasing his arm as they arrived at his first project, a teleportation machine. “This was one of my first projects here,” Carlos informed Cecil happily “I built it 7 years ago. Strex only use it to transport goods and people but I can’t help but think that it could have much further reaching implications than that. Anyway, moving on…”

Cecil followed silently, lost in thought as he digested the knowledge that Carlos had been with Strex for years. How much of their relationship, he wondered, had been a clever lie, carefully constructed to make him easier to subdue.

As he looked around, he saw what appeared to be a miniature radio transmitter. “Oh yes, that’s just a pet project of mine, of course I want it to end up a lot smaller, but it transmits well enough for now.” Carlos said idly, already moving on to his next creation.

He was 5 projects away before he realised Cecil was not with and, spinning around, saw him poking at the transmitter. Hurrying over, he led him away none too gently, berating him for “wandering off, honestly, I know you’re used to Night Vale but there are some very dangerous things in this lab, Cecil. Honestly, we do a lot of science here, if you’re not with me you could upset an experiment or hurt yourself or someone else or…”.

As he listened to Carlos, Cecil allowed himself to relax and let his words wash over him. It was so very, very easy to pretend everything was okay, that the year had been an awful nightmare induced by Khoshekh’s  poisonous spikes or by the drugs the secret police occasionally liked to slip into people’s food when they were feeling a little bored.

At least, it was easy, until Cecil saw the most unexpected thing. Row after row of people stood at perfect attention, eerily still and quiet.

Stopping in surprise, Cecil stared at them, vaguely horrified, in that abstract, detached sort of way which occurs when it’s that or screaming until your throat is raw and bleeding.

“Even for Strex,” he managed, “that’s low.”.

Carlos raised an eyebrow in question, before turning to look where Cecil was riveted. “Oh, Cecil, don’t worry, those aren’t real people, they’re just biomachines”.

As he spoke, one of the… anyway, one of them turned their head to stare unerringly at Carlos, whom it fixed with a glare which spoke of hatred, and pain.

“They’re awake!” Cecil exclaimed, a mixture of horror and pity evident in his tone.

“Well of course they’re awake, Cecil. How on earth could we measure their responses to stimuli if they aren’t aware?”

“But they’re people!” Cecil exclaimed, “They might not be human, but…” his voice trailed off, “they’re people. Oh Daniel, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be silly, Cecil. Of course they’re not people. They’re machines, programmed with basic emotions, sure, but machines none the less.”

Before Cecil could respond, a chirpy, upbeat voice blared out across the room, coming from sources Cecil could not identify. “The citizens of Night Vale have decided to pay Strexcorp a visit. This is simply a  friendly show of affection, please continue working and do not allow worry to disrupt your productivity. In an unrelated manner, please could all security personnel report to the front desk. That is all. Thank you.”

“Cecil,” Carlos said, turning to fix the radio host with a penetrating stare, “What, exactly, were you doing with the radio transmitter?”, he asked.

Cecil jerked his chin up to stare Carlos in the eye. “What do you think?” he sassed.

Carlos’ arm flew out, grabbing Cecil by the lapels and pushing him back into the wall. “Well, I’d like to imagine that you were telling all of your pathetic friends to come and surrender peacefully to Strexcorp, but that doesn’t seem very likely, does it?”.

“You tell me, Mr Scientist”, Cecil replied, “I would have thought that it was unlikely that Carlos the Scientist would be working for Strexcorp, and yet here we are.”

Carlos grinned, a sharp, wicked smile, “I’d forgotten how much fun you are Cecil.” he said, before leaning in the last few inches and pressing his mouth to Cecil’s.

Cecil froze for a second, back against the wall and mind already going at a hundred and one miles per hour, before beginning to struggle, arms against Carlos’ chest, trying to pry free.

Carlos released Cecil, but kept him backed against the wall, “I remember a time when you would have been over the moon to do something like that.” he sighed, “What’s changed? I’m still me, you’re still you.”

Cecil glared. “You are not my imperfectly perfect Carlos. I don’t- I don’t know if he ever existed, but you are not him. And I don’t love you. Why were you in Night Vale, Carlos?”

“At first, it was just a research job, and you were just a very pretty distraction. Then, Strex got interested in Night Vale, they noticed that you’re all copies of the citizens in Desert Bluffs, and I couldn’t help but wonder: what if we made another Desert Bluffs. What if we threw out all your old gods and created a perfect, smiling town in the name of our Smiling God. People loved the idea! The money, the power, the prestige, there was something for everyone.”

“And for you?” Cecil asked, trying to keep his voice steady, as he listened to this horror story.

"I wasn't lying when I said I liked you, Cecil. You're really very pretty. And I do like pretty things."

Cecil couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. His heart thumping in his ears drowned out all other noises. All he wanted was to get away from Carlos and the things he was suggesting. In panic, he searched for some way to get away, but he was as trapped as ever.

Carlos stared for a moment enjoying the sight of Cecil twisting and turning in front of him, before a frown formed on his face. Before he could say anything, the doors to the huge hangar blew off their hinges and small pieces of shrapnel scattered around the vicinity.

An army poured in. Leading the wave was Tamika Flynn, but Cecil could see others as well. In fact, there was almost no one from Night Vale who he couldn’t see. As he watched, the destructive force began to spread, pinwheeling across the floor, destroying everything in their path.

Cecil’s eyes stung with tears as he watched his town, his family, fight. He should have trusted in them, should have called upon them sooner, but they were here now, they were protecting themselves, their loved ones, and it was beautiful.

As he sold, lost in the miraculous sight in front of him, Carlos edged towards a control panel, carefully adjusting dials and fiddling with knobs, before, with a sigh, he released the biomachines. Immediately, the steel army straightened up and, stepping out of their tanks, began ripping into their foes with alarming efficiency.

Cecil’s joy changed to horror in seconds as he watched as Night Vale was slowly beaten back. However, with a rallying cry, Steve, of all people, called a small group to him and slowly but surely, they began cutting their way through the ranks of biomachines. Other citizens emulated his plan and the tide of the battle once again turned in their favour.

At least, it was until Carlos suddenly attracted Cecil’s attention. “I remember where I’ve heard the name Daniel, now.”. He laughed, bitterly, “It’s your new boss, the one you’re always complaining about. He’s a biomachine, isn’t he. Did itty bitty Cecil fall in love?”, he mocked, “Well, how about this; either you call off Night Vale, or I flick this lovely little switch and every biomachine within a 10 mile radius shuts down. For good.”

“Carlos, please, I can’t call this off.” Cecil near begged, “It has to happen. Night Vale has to be free. But please, don’t kill all these people.”.

“Cecil,” Carlos mocked, “they’re not people. You’re in love with a computer. A cold, hard, unfeeling computer.”

“The only one cold and unfeeling here is you, Carlos.” Cecil retorted angrily, “And I will never, ever give in.”

“Fine,” Carlos said uncaringly, then, looking around, “They weren’t holding you all off anyway.”. And reaching the last couple of inches, Carlos flicked the switch. The effect was immediate and devastating. Everywhere, motors whirred down and lights faded, as a huge EMP was detonated.

Cecil screamed. Shaking with desperate, uncontrollable anger, he lunged towards Carlos, and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, livid with rage and sorrow. "You killed him!".

"And so now you'll kill me?" Carlos said, "Over something that wasn't even real?"

Cecil's head filled with possibilities, a  multitude of ways to make Carlos hurt as much as he was. Lowering him to the floor, he shook his head softly. "I don't love you." he stated simply, reassuring himself as much as anything, "I don't think I ever knew you to love you. But I loved who you were, and I don't know how much of that was real. I won't kill you Carlos, because the man I thought you were wouldn't have wanted that. But that doesn't mean I'll let you go."

Carlos calmly pulled a sleek, matt black handgun from his lab coat. Keeping the gun trained on Cecil, he backed towards the open door. “I do have to thank you for your good judgement in leaving me alive, but I'm afraid I really must be going.". Glancing down at his gun, he commented, "It’s always a good idea to be carrying some sort of weapon in Desert Bluffs, wouldn't you say? It was good to see you Cecil, but you're not quite pretty enough to make prison worth it, especially not whatever passes for it in Night Vale.”.

“And where will you go?” spat Cecil, “We’ve destroyed Strexcorp, you’ve got nowhere to run.”.

“Cecil,” Carlos reprimanded, “you always think so small.” he extended his arms and spun, once. “Do you really think this it, this is Strexcorp? This is one tiny part of our power, all you’ve done is earn yourselves a temporary reprieve. Enjoy it, we’ll be back”.

Carlos left.

Let us also leave, now. Life, happens. Cecil cries for a very long time, he carries the burden of unshed tears for even longer. He will never be the same, but none of us ever are.

Strexcorp returns, Carlos leading them into a battle against the town and radio host who had once loved him. They do not love him anymore. 

People die, as they do. Others are born, and the legacy of Night Vale is unbroken.

Daniel is buried by Cecil, who finds he cannot look anyone in the eye for weeks after. Eventually, he will return here to bury the biomachines killed by Carlos. But not yet. Now is a time for mourning, for loss, and he cannot bear to come back.

There are quiet, intimate moments, and loud, angry moments, but I will not tell them to you. I think we owe them some privacy, don’t you?

Goodnight, Night Vale, Goodnight