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Carlos isn't humming as he steps through the door. He usually hums - usually the weather - but today doesn't feel like a day for humming. Not after the news. Still, Carlos puts on a smile as he places his keyring in the dish, a cheerful appearance for Cecil if nothing else. The scientist may be concerned, but Cecil, who was so personally involved in the mayoral assassination attempts, will take the news far worse.
Speaking of Cecil, he is currently seated at their dining room table staring down at something. Carlos plants a quick peck to the top of his head in passing on his way to the kitchen to set down his lunch pack. "So, somewhere tropical, huh, babe?" he calls back over his shoulder. "Maybe we should start collecting brochures so we can work up a rough draft of the time off request for Station Management. Yeah?" Cecil makes a distracted hmph in response. Carlos turns to put an unused thermos away and that's when he spies the bottle on the counter. It's been pulled from its safe perch in the back of an upper cupboard along with a tumbler that Carlos now notices being the focus of Cecil's rapt attention.
Carlos pads over to the table and sits carefully next to Cecil. "I heard about the trial."
"They don't deserve to die," Cecil states with finality. "I guess that says a lot," he huffs. "I used to think everyone deserved to die, but not like this. I- I don't want that for Hiram. I don't want that to be our legacy anymore." Cecil looks older, ages older, despite his garish floral sweaterdress and the playful daisies knotted into his braids. He looks tired.
"I know," Carlos agrees, reaching for his boyfriend's hand and not being wholly surprised when Cecil only halfheartedly accepts the gesture. "None of the heads deserve to die, but I feel especially bad for Violet. He thought this was such a nice town to settle down, and he's innocent in all of this."
"’Innocent,’" Cecil sneers as he finishes the remainder of his drink in a single shot. “He’s done plenty of damage in this mess.”
"I'm sorry that's - I didn't mean it in that sense," Carlos amends. There's a moment of silence as Cecil traces the edge of the empty glass with a fuchsia fingertip.
"Does it make me a bad person," Cecil asks haltingly. "The first thing I thought of, when they sentenced Hiram, my first thought was 'They don't deserve this,' but my second thought was 'At least Violet’s getting something for what he did.'" Cecil fidgets with the glass and finally pushes it out of reach, forcing himself to look Carlos squarely in the eyes. "For that one moment, it felt good for him to be something besides 'innocent' in all this."
Carlos chews his lip as he considers the confession. When he responds, it is kind, but decided. "Cecil, honey, I can't imagine what it was like to have your agency taken away like that. It must have been so difficult - everything you went through alone, and everything you're still going through because of it. Nobody has the right to tell you to let that go. But, Ceec, what I can tell you is that if you let the anger dictate your decisions from this point forward in your life, you won't like the person you'll be at the end of it."
"You're right." Cecil nods and gives a squeeze to their joined hands. "You're right."
"Well, I'm a scientist - we usually are," Carlos replies with a smile. Cecil snorts and pulls his boyfriend's knuckles to his lips briefly. "You know, scientists are also good at figuring things out, and I've been doing some thinking about Hiram. I think there's still some way we can fix this. It might take some assistance from some less than ideal sources, but I think we can find a way to save them. They deserve to live."
Cecil gives a half-smile, the most hopeful he's seemed since the sentencing. "All of them," he agrees.