Work Text:
“Go to sleep, Carlos.”
But I'm not awake.
“Wake up, Carlos.”
But I'm not asleep.
“It's morning Carlos, get up.”
“It's evening Carlos, lay down.”
It hadn't been either of those things in a very long time.
“Time isn't real.”
“Neither is anything else.”
But one thing was real.
“The desert isn't real, Carlos.”
“Night Vale isn't real, Carlos.”
No, but one thing was real.
“The universe isn't real, Carlos.”
“Existence isn't real, Carlos.”
No, but one thing was real. One thing would always be real.
“The universe is already over.”
“The universe has unravelled.”
“The last piece fall off long, long ago.”
But time wasn't real.
“Nothing is real.”
But if time wasn't real than the past was also the future.
“The universe will always be unraveling.”
“The universe isn't real.”
But if the past was the future, it was also the present.
“The universe isn't real, Carlos.”
But if the universe was unraveling in the present, had unwound completely in the past. The he could twist it back together in the future.
“The universe isn't real, Carlos.”
“Nothing is real, Carlos.”
But one thing was real.
Cecil was real.
Whether the present was the past or the past was the future.
Whether time was real.
Whether the universe was real.
Whether... he was real.
Everything was some level of probably, but one thing was a promise.
Cecil was real.
And he would see Cecil again.