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Carlos opened his eyes and there was darkness. Or maybe, he hadn’t really opened his eyes. He blinked, and was now sure that he had in fact opened his eyes. But there was just nothing to see, and now he noticed, nothing to hear. No light. No sound. Nothing.
It was as though he was suspended in lukewarm water, but he was breathing just fine. He had not acquired gills, as he could feel his lungs inflate and deflate, so there must be air. He waved a tentative hand before him and was shocked to find no air resistance. What black, vacuous void had he found himself in? Where was this place? When did he get here? Why was he here? Who, if anyone, knew where he was?
Trepidation inspired tachycardia, and Carlos tried to turn around, only to find that his sense of direction was completely thrown off. He couldn’t even tell if he was right-side up, up-side down, or even left-side diagonally. He ran his hands through his hair, only to find that even that did not give him any clue of his position, as his hair swayed about his head, again, like he was underwater.
He ran his hands down his face, let his fingers trail down his neck until he came across a patch of a crusted something at his collarbone. Confused, he felt down, finding more of this crusted something on his shirt until his fingers came across a rip in the fabric. This was strange, as to his knowledge, the only holes in his clothes were for functionality, not aesthetics. He probed around the rip and froze over a patch a skin and scar tissue. Scar tissue he did not remember ever growing.
In a panic, he checked his chest for more mysterious markings to find another scar resting just over his heart. Judging by the size and shape, Carlos had a horrible hypothesis. Of course, he would need to do more scientific tests, if he ever got the chance, but at the moment, he was certain he should be dead.
Maybe he was. Maybe this void was what awaited everyone. This lonely expanse of eternity that allowed for the healing of mortal wounds and sentience, but nothing more. The emptiness overwhelmed him. There was nothing but him, and it seemed likely to remain this way. Carlos choked on a sob.
~Hello?~
Carlos startled. That voice. He knew that voice, a voice that he now felt rather than heard.
“C-Cecil?”
The darkness softened with a misting of purple and streaks of indigo. He still could not see past the darkness, but the change inspired a warmth that Carlos only ever felt in connection to science and his dear, beautiful, wonderfully weird Cecil.
“Cecil!” Carlos shouted into the void.
~Carlos?~ Cecil’s voice felt hopeful. ~Is that… no. No it can’t be.~
“It is!” Carlos shouted again. “I don’t know how, but it is.”
The darkness swirled around him curiously. After a moment, the darkness seemed to recognize him because it wrapped itself around him in a tight, but pleasantly so, embrace.
~Oh, Carlos,~ Cecil’s voice felt broken in a way that spoke of a too long separation come to an end, ~I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Where are you? How can I bring you back to me? Please, I need you so much. Just come back! Please, I…~
There was silence, and Carlos grew concerned.
“Cecil?” he called out. “What’s going on? Are you-“
Carlos.
This felt different. It still felt like Cecil, but thunderous. Ancient. Carlos could feel the voice reverberate in his bones. In his blood. In his corpuscles.
“Y-Yes?”
It is time for the Forgotten God to forget once more.
“What,” Carlos swallowed nervously, “What do you mean?”
The Forgotten God knows all but remembers nothing. The Forgotten God speaks truth but lives lies. The Forgotten God sees death but gives life. The Forgotten God holds love but feels loss. The Forgotten God. Forgotten. Goddd…
“Cecil, please,” Carlos said as the darkness swelled, “I don’t have my scientific tools, I can’t- I don’t know what’s going on!”
Good night, my dear Carlos. Good night.
“NO!” Carlos shouted as the darkness weighed heavily on him, pushing him down so that he could no longer breathe, “CECIL!”
--
Carlos snapped awake to find himself lying beside a peacefully sleeping Cecil. A nightmare? Carlos wasn’t so sure. He felt his bare chest, finding the scars still there, though he was thankfully clean. So no, not a nightmare.
He sat up and looked around the room. It was almost the same as he remembered it, but the calendar on the wall was wrong. Way wrong. Far too much time had passed. The closet was open, but there were no lab coats in view, but instead a cardboard box on the floor inside simply labeled ‘Carlos’. He shivered.
Cecil murmured sleepily beside him and sat up as well. He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled softly. It was so strange that despite evidence of what Carlos knew to be true, that he was trapped in the void for months on end, Cecil gave no indication that anything had changed.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning…” Carlos said with uncertainty. “Cecil, do you notice anything off?”
Cecil seemed confused. His face was doing that thing he does when he’s thinking and it was adorable. Carlos hadn’t realized how much he missed it, despite only knowing about his own absence for a short time.
“No,” Cecil said slowly, “Why? Is something different?”
“It’s December,” Carlos said carefully, “When was the last time you saw me?”
Cecil’s face did that thing again but this time it seemed to cause him intense pain. It was almost as though he was experiencing the consequences of some operant conditioning method designed to make that which he forgot stay forgotten. After a moment, Cecil’s face smoothed out and he kissed Carlos’ cheek.
“We should have breakfast. It is the most important meal of the day apart from double breakfast and weird breakfast.”
“But, Cecil,” Carlos grabbed Cecil’s wrist as he tried to get out of bed. “Look around. Look at my chest! Don’t you think it’s strange that something has clearly happened and we don't know what?”
Cecil reached up and his fingers trailed over the scar that marked Carlos’ heart. Pain flashed across Cecil’s face before he dropped his hand and shook his head. When he was done, he seemed to completely forget what they were talking about.
“What something?”
“Well,” Carlos began again, but hesitant. He didn’t want to push if it resulted with Cecil in pain. He gave Cecil’s wrist a gentle squeeze and let him go. “You… you really don’t remember?”
“I was thinking of eggs and bacon,” Cecil responded casually. “Or we could go to Big Rico’s for a hearty breakfast slice. No one does a slice like Big Rico. No one.”
Carlos watched Cecil get out of bed and stretch his tattooed arms over his head, fuzzy grey shirt pulling up over his sleeping skirt enough to reveal a strip of Cecil-colored skin and treasure trail. He really didn’t remember anything. Why? There had to be a scientific reason. Maybe there was some way Carlos could research this. Find that reason with science.
It is time for the Forgotten God to forget once more.
The words echoed in Carlos’ mind and he looked at Cecil with new eyes. Cecil couldn’t remember, and he wouldn’t even if he did. Cecil willed Carlos back to from whatever fate had befallen him, and he wouldn’t remember. Perhaps it was best this way. It saved Cecil from whatever heartbreak his absence had caused. And if Cecil had to forget, maybe it was best that Carlos forget too.
“I think I’d rather stay in this morning,” Carlos smiled and moved to wrap his arms around Cecil’s waist. He tenderly kissed Cecil’s chest
“Oh,” Cecil started, “what are you-“
“I love you, Cecil,” Carlos said and pulled back so that his hands rested on Cecil’s hips. “I’ve loved you for a long time, and it doesn’t matter what you are or how you came to be. What you remember. What you don't. You’re still you, and I will always love you. There's nothing on earth or extra-dimensional plane that can change that.”
“Oh, Carlos,” Cecil fell to his knees and wrapped arms around Carlos. Soon warm tears were warming the cool skin of Carlos' chest. He shushed Cecil gently and held him close. Sobs wracked Cecil's body and soon, Carlos felt tears form in his own eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Me too.”